


His Butler, Modernized

by atmmmmm



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Original Work
Genre: A little?, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anime/Manga Fusion, Brain Damage, Crimes & Criminals, Crossover, Demons, Dreams and Nightmares, Fallen Angels, Female Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff, Gangs, Gen, Girl Power, Grim Reapers, Investigations, Kinda, Multi, Occult, Organized Crime, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Plot Twists, Private Investigators, Psychological Horror, Shinigami, Trans Character, a la saints row asdfasfa, also yes this is another crossover w/ my ocs and their story, an OC will describe herself as one but she is a demon, grell of course and then an OC, ish?, other characters from the series are here dw adfasda, she was an angel once so it's a fair description, there's two trans women, this uses characters from my own stories adsfasda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 45,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25130959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atmmmmm/pseuds/atmmmmm
Summary: Sebastian and Claude - technically frenemies - get involved in the business of one human crime lord, all while managing the contracts they have with two boys, Alois Trancy and Ciel Phantomhive. Hits notes and plots from both the manga and anime, but mainly the manga. That said, this plot is overall original and is just in a completely different universe than canon.
Relationships: Claude Faustus/Original Character(s), Hannah Annafellows/Grell Sutcliff
Kudos: 6





	1. A Prologue By Any Other Name

_An empty hole._ That was what he called her. He was seemingly angered and even disgusted by her presence. She honestly had never seen anything like it, especially from him. He never showed disgust unless in jest, and he still hadn’t directly said he deemed her gross. A bond had been broken in the spider’s web and he was very, very displeased with her. Disappointed? It didn’t matter to her. She had been forced out of the home - his home - as a message. Perhaps she was ruining his plans? Destroying his inner sanctum? His sanctuary? 

“Your constant back and forth is the last straw,” he had said coldly. He had blown up so suddenly, and had returned to a complete lack of emotion within the blink of an eye.

“All I said was-” 

“Silence. I don’t want to hear what you have to say,” Claude said. They both knew Alois was listening to them, but neither of them wanted to act as if nothing happened during dinner. As if Hannah hadn’t shouted at Claude out of the blue, claiming he was manipulating Alois and using him for his own selfish goals. 

Hannah was now running away from the home. Well, not running. She was driving with tear-filled eyes, her belongings in the trunk. She wished she had custody of Alois, not Claude. Claude didn’t deserve Alois. Alois didn’t deserve to be manipulated. 

_An empty hole._ She understood what he meant when he said that. She was a sheathe, sure, but it was clear now that Claude never saw her as a companion, but someone to have around for his own pleasure when no one else could please him. She wondered what Claude would do now without her. She did most of the cleaning around the house. Claude was a very neat and organized man, though, and he’d surely either pick up the slack himself or hire someone to do it for him. 

Was she hollow? An empty hole of a person? No, that had to be Claude. Claude wasn’t necessarily shallow. In fact, the two often had rather intelligent and thoughtful conversations. However, Claude showed very little emotion around Alois. He was a bit smug around her, sometimes even loving. But he never laughed, never showed genuine joy. That night had been the first time he showed his anger to both her and Alois. As for sadness, was it possible for Claude to even be sad? He’d just get angry, never sad. At least, that’s what it seemed like. 

But Hannah? Hannah felt miserable. She never understood how Claude could be so emotionless, so cruel. She pulled over to the side of the road to cry, unable to drive through her tears. She weeped like only La Llorona could, melancholy howls escaping her throat. Her baby had been taken from her by the foul forest known as Claude Faustus. James Macken was lost in that forest, and Hannah was supposed to be his fearless savior. 

“Please, God!” the demoness cried out, “Let him be okay. Do not allow him to be harmed!” She continued to wail. 

Despite being in his house, Claude heard her desperate prayers. He smirked. Her crying sickened him. How dramatic! How shallow! _How empty_. 

_An empty hole._ That’s what she was, through and through. He no longer needed a shallow plaything whose existence relied on a demonic sword. He only needed Alois. And once he was done with Alois, he would be satisfied for about a month. And the cycle would continue. The spider lures the fly to its web, the fly comes too close to the web, and the spider eats the fly. That was the way of Claude Faustus. And yet, he could transform the flies into different meals. Innocent flies to blood-sucking mosquitoes, dirty flies into beautiful butterflies. Flies were so versatile once he wrapped his fingers around them. The flies felt like clay in his hands. 

Day into night. Sugar into salt. Creatures into corpses. A demoness into an empty hole. A lowly orphan boy into a golden child. 

That was the way of Claude Faustus. 


	2. American Television

There were rare moments where Sebastian caught what was on TV. All of it was drivel, but occasionally they played entertaining drivel. Such an example was what was airing at the moment. 

The news report said, “Authorities nationwide are searching for crime lord Pierre Labelle after his escape during trial. Witnesses say that he was chased throughout Portland by many officers and civilians. One witness said he was muttering ‘They have the bone to pick with me’. It’s unknown how he disappeared, but there are reports of a helicopter flying over the mall he was last seen in.” As more interviews played, Sebastian shook his head. Americans. So obsessed with crime and justice without being able to see the injustice in themselves. Well, that was all humans. All humans were innately attracted to taboo. 

The fact that he agreed to move to America for his friend was enough. Now that this same friend was trying to spend more time roping Sebastian into whatever he did for Hell was over the top. He had been ignoring both his cellphone and the television until Ciel Phantomhive said something. 

“He’s developed a cult of personality. No wonder why society is obsessed with crime and criminals,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” Sebastian quickly asked, tearing himself away from the kitchen. Both watched what was on their smart TV. A woman was speaking to a man currently at the mall Mr. Labelle was last seen. 

“Jonathan, I just can’t believe how wild it is that there are actually people who’re happy that this man is ‘free’. Even though he really just fled in the middle of his trial.” 

“He’s lucky it was just a minor drug trial, too,” Jonathan laughed, “I don’t think the people would be happy if he was on trial for something else he’s done… like murder!” They both laugh. 

“We’re only joking. Either way, Mr. Labelle will surely pop up again to give us all a few… words of inspiration about being a ‘self-made man’ and a man of the people,” the woman said. 

“Strange,” Sebastian said while shaking his head. 

“Agreed. I expected more biting commentary, not lukewarm passive aggressiveness,” Ciel said as he changed the channel, “American TV is beyond boring, anyways.” 

“Dinner will be done soon,” Sebastian said. Ciel looked over his shoulder to stare at his guardian. 

“What do you think about that man?” Ciel asked, “Pierre Filimor Achilles Labelle.”

“Frankly, I’ve never heard of him,” Seb replied, “Why, have you done research?” 

“I’ve been researching him since I saw a tweet with a video attached. For a bigger man, he can absolutely run faster than me.”

“Doesn’t help that you have asthma,” Seb said with a slight smirk.Ciel frowned. If he were 13, he would’ve shouted at Sebastian. He would have even thrown a fit. But he was 14 now, and he certainly wasn’t going to make a fool out of himself. 

“Anyways. I noticed that he was wearing heels, meaning that he’s definitely athletic. As for more important information, Mr. Labelle is a crime lord that’s also heavily involved in charity work, specifically organizations that will help LGBTQ+ kids in need. He does not describe himself as an advocate, though. He’ll claim that he’s just a rich socialite due to various inheritances, but everyone knows he’s a shady figure. That said, most will say positive things about him, despite the rumors that he’s killed multiple family members. Well, some say he’s actually had hitmen go after them.” 

“Interesting,” Seb said with a nod, “What did you mean when you said Pierre had a cult of personality? That usually involves politics.” 

“Oh. Right. Pierre just seems to share personality traits with others that had such power. Stalin, JFK, MLK, Malcolm X, Gandhi-”

“-Jim Jones,” Sebastian said. 

“... That doesn’t apply to actual cults.” 

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ve done some research on my own, admittedly. Pierre Labelle and his… group… seem very cult-like.” Ciel rolled his eyes.

“What a bizarre thought,” he murmured, “A gang being a cult. Absolutely not. They’re two very different cultures.” 

“Are they?” Sebastian asked. 

“...Yes? Anyways, that’s not the point, Sebastian. The point I’m making here is that Pierre is well-connected, well-funded, and may be the guy we need to contact.” 

“Right,” Sebastian said with a nod, “I would agree.” As Sebastian continued cooking, his mind drifted. They had been living in American for almost a year now; it was the same amount of time that Claude Faustus and Hannah Annafellows, the couple that lasted for centuries, split. It hadn’t been a gradual split, either. It all happened in one night.

\------------------------------------

As Sebastian was doing the dishes and winding down for the night, he finally decided to call Claude. He had been bothering him all day with texts. 

“Hello, Claude,” Sebastian sighed as he finished cleaning. Claude responded as he dried his hands. 

“Did you read anything that I sent you? I said _ don’t _ call me.” 

“My bad,” Sebastian said, not feeling an ounce of guilt, “But I didn’t. Just summarize it to me now.” 

“Right. Did you hear about the crime lord that escaped in a helicopter?” 

“I did. Ciel and I were talking about him earlier.”

“Oh! How is Ciel?” Claude asked, a bit too eager. Seb didn’t mind, though. 

“He’s just fine. He’s very invested in Mr. Labelle, which is… odd. There must be something more, there. Is Alois doing well.” 

“...Oh. He’s fine,” Claude replied, sounding much less enthusiastic. Sebastian said nothing, analyzing that sudden change. 

“He’s here,” Claude said at last, also seemingly analyzing his own behavior. 

“Come again?” Sebastian said, “Who’s here?” 

“Pierre Labelle,” Claude said, “I got a tip.”

“What’s he here  _ for _ ?” 

“Apparently he’s here to find an artifact in my possession. Luckily, that’s only in Hell. According to the demon that gave me the tip, he’s planning to create a portal to Hell via a sacrifice. However, that same demon sensed someone else doing the same. It could be him, it could not be.”

“It could be someone he’s working with.” 

“Indeed. However, I should add that it is specifically Pierre searching for immortality and power.” 

“That’s some cult shit.” 

“Absolutely,” Claude said, “ I wouldn’t get Ciel involved in it.”

“Don’t worry about what I do with Ciel,” Sebastian said, tension building in his shoulders, “You worry about your master, and I shall worry about mine.” 

“You forget that my contractee - that’s contractee, not master - is not as sensitive as yours is.” 

“Pardon? Claude, you and I know that Alois has the worst temper.” 

“That doesn’t mean that he’s sensitive.” A pause followed.

“Well, I’ll just text you if I want to talk some more. Or you could come over,” Sebastian said, a smile creeping upon his face. 

“Absolutely not. Just text me. Goodbye, Michaelis,” Claude said coldly. 

“Fine. Goodbye! Have a good night,” Sebastian bid him farewell in a rather cheerful voice. Claude hung up, the call catching part of a sigh. Sebastian frowned as he glanced down at his phone. 

“Curse you, Claude,” Sebastian said. He glanced at the stove’s digital clock. 

10:30 pm. Ciel should head to bed in about 30 minutes. He then looked back at the TV. He sat down on the couch. Rather than watch cable, he decided to catch up with one of his favorite YouTuber personalities, a streamer that was both psychic and witty. Not that he thought psychics couldn’t be witty. There was something about this man’s way with words that amused Seb. Then again, all psychics have a way with words. Conveniently, the man announced he was travelling to a nearby location. Perhaps Ciel could speak to Pierre while Sebastian spoke to this man. Was he really tuned in to the other side? If so, he must have a special soul, a tasty soul. 

It was as if fate was looping all their strings around one another, connecting all of them. Sebastian Michaelis wasn’t Claude Faustus, though. He liked to actually complete a contract before eating another soul. No snacking during the contract, no slacking during the contract. He would see Ciel’s contract to completion, and that would require the interrogation of Pierre Filimor Achilles Labelle. 


	3. A Trip to a Bistro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet y'all didn't expect me to update this, but I finally figured out the official list of characters and a solid plot, so expect more chapters!

“Thank you for meeting up with me on such short notice,” Sebastian said as Claude sat down before him. The two were at a local bistro, one that had decent food with good prices. Sebastian wouldn’t be eating, though. 

“It’s really no problem,” Claude put his hand out, “But I appreciate the sentiment. I prefer meeting in public, anyways. Your home gives me hives.” Sebastian laughed. 

“Your living space makes me rather hivey myself,” he replied. When one demon stepped into the den of another demon, it took at least an hour for them to adjust. 

“So. What exactly did you want to talk about concerning Pierre?” Claude asked. 

“Oh! Right.” 

“... You forgot about that?” 

“No, I was just… well, it doesn’t matter-” 

“You really forgot why you invited me here.” 

“I didn’t!” Silence passed. 

“... So can you tell me-” 

“I want to know how we can find him,” Sebastian interrupted, “Will he be disguised? Will he be accompanied by someone?” 

“Most likely. For both scenarios, I mean,” Claude replied, “It’d be easy for him to disguise himself as a woman. Plus, if he’s really this influential, he’ll need a bodyguard. He’ll be talking with someone at least.” Claude’s golden eyes looked at the humans walking along the sidewalk before looking at the patrons that were dining outside with them. 

“Oh, you’re just a silly little robin, aren’t you?” a man asked a woman he was on a lunch date with. Claude’s eyes narrowed, as did Sebastian. 

Aleister Chamber. That man was actually just a socialite, a man who’d been born into money. He’d been suspicious so many times and had been involved in human trafficking allegations, but had never been charged for any crimes. 

“... Poor woman,” Seb snarked as the two stared at the table. Indeed, the woman sitting there looked unamused with Aleister’s shenanigans; her dark blue eyes were narrowed, platinum blond hair framing her face. Her pink dress hugged her voluptuous figure. Claude suddenly pulled out some notes, glancing back and forth from them and the woman. Sebastian caught a peek of them, his mouth forming into an “o” shape. On these papers were sketches of Pierre Labelle and notes on his personality.

“Obsessive much?” Sebastian teased. Claude frowned before putting the notes away. 

“That has to be him,” Claude whispered in Latin. 

“I have no clue what you just said. Could you try Hebrew?” Sebastian replied. Claude glared at him. 

“I could kill you,” he murmured, “It’s possible that maybe… just maybe… that’s him?” Sebastian didn’t look at the table behind them. 

“Nooo,” Seb replied, “I really doubt that. Let’s just enjoy our lunch.” He winked, which made Claude roll his eyes. Still, doubt was starting to dwell in Claude’s head. The woman really looked like his sketches, but something about the posture and attitude didn’t fit. This was most likely part of the disguise, but the woman was completely quiet and stone-faced. She almost acted exactly like Claude himself. Pierre Labelle, according to various sources, was not like that. In fact, the woman before them reminded of Hannah Annafellows more than anything. 

Hannah Annafellows. The empty hole. He knew what she was up to, but he certainly had no intention of involving himself in her shenanigans; not only was she in another town, but she was already taken. The thought made him frown, for he wondered how that poor fool was holding up. Hannah was vindictive and cruel, that was for certain; what made her worse was that she completely and utterly covered her true demonic traits with a facade of nervousness and victim-hood. That sickened him the most about the empty hole, the sheath of Lævateinn.

Claude realized he had stared at the woman for too long; she was now staring at him. Surprisingly, she smiled at him.

“Aw, I didn’t even know that you could blush!” Sebastian teased, pointing at Claude’s cheeks. Claude immediately looked away and closed his eyes. He then let out a short sigh. 

“I don’t,” he replied as he opened his eyes to glare at Sebastian. 

“Of course you don’t,” Sebastian replied with a smug smile. That smile then turned innocent, but Sebastian was the exact opposite. 

“How could you? After all, you’re the-“ 

“That is definitely him,” Claude said as the woman and Aleister Chambers left, “It’s got to be. I refuse to believe that it isn’t.” Sebastian frowned. Way to completely interrupt a good joke. 

“Although I agree, here’s a counter… why Aleister Chamber? By that, I wonder why Pierre would choose Aleister. He’s not that useful in my opinion.” Seb asked. 

“Good point. However, my theory is that Aleister is nothing more than a cover.” 

“Hmm?” 

“By pretending to be a woman - one that willingly spends time with Aleister - Pierre is able to forego his true personality and plot in private. Aleister is surely not involved in his business.” 

“...I don’t think so. Remember that human trafficking scandal?” Claude smirked.

“Pierre would never involve himself in that. He went on record that he’d never. But… I understand what you’re saying. Maybe Aleister is still involved in some organized crime.” 

“Indeed,” Sebastian said with a nod, “I believe it’s imperative that we investigate him.” Claude agreed with that. After the lunch where very little food was actually consumed, the two demons formed a plan and parted ways; Sebastian would do the rest of the research while Claude followed Aleister around. 

As Claude followed after Aleister’s smell - the man smelled rather nice for a human, so it was easy to follow - he thought of what he’d come across once he started spying on them. He felt sure that that woman was actually Pierre. After all, that disguise made sense; femininity was a key asset of Pierre’s life. He continued to follow the scent which eventually led him to a park. Way in the back, Aleister was chatting with the woman, walking around as he did so. The woman was sitting on a bench, smoking. What exactly was she smoking? Was that even allowed?

“Oh, my little Robin,” Aleister sighed before looking at her, “May you ever forgive me?” 

“...Sit,” Pierre commanded. That was Pierre’s voice, no doubt about it. It was the exact same voice he had heard during interviews. Claude walked through the park and eventually settled at a nearby bench before pretending to read. 

“Listen,” Pierre said, “I have to play hooky with a conference in two days from now. Have any ideas?” 

“... So you forgive me?” Pierre rolled his eyes. 

“Yes. Now give me some ideas.” 

“Well… There is that masquerade ball we’re having in three days from now. I could reschedule it?” 

“No. It’s in the afternoon.” 

“Oh! If it’s in the afternoon, then you can just spend time with me! Although… I did want to work on some writing… but I can work on that tomorrow!”

“Hey, that works out for me. I got shit to do tomorrow.” 

“Oh? Like what?” 

“... Shit you shouldn’t worry about,” Pierre replied in a cold tone that could make any human shiver. Claude smirked as he heard it, however; the tone was similar to his own. 

“Right,” Aleister said, looking worried. As the two continued to talk, Claude felt himself… relaxing? It was odd to feel relaxed from a celebrity gang leader’s voice, but that was how he felt. Eventually, the two left, but Claude found himself following them again. He wondered if Pierre was growing suspicious. When would he call Claude out for following them? Surely someone like Pierre would’ve caught on by now. 

Claude stopped walking and leaned on a brick half-wall topped with ornate iron spikes. He watched as Pierre greeted a woman slightly older than both Pierre and Aleister. Her black hair was short and styled upward, yet the sides of her head were shaved. She wore sunglasses to protect her eyes as she stepped out of a slick black car, her clothes matching the car. 

“Dasha Romanov. Nice to meet you,” she, who spoke with a Russian accent, briefly shook Aleister’s hand as Pierre walked in front of the car to get into the driver’s seat. Aleister introduced himself with a look of… surprise? That seemed to be it, according to Claude. Dasha sat in the back of the car while Aleister sat next to Pierre. Before Aleister had finished getting in, the car zoomed away. 

Dasha Romanov. That name sounded vaguely familiar. Was she a business type? Claude would have to ask Sebastian and Ciel about it later. For now, it was best to continue following. 

\------------------------------------

“I’m gonna bash that bastard’s brains in,” Dasha sighed while crushing an empty can of alcoholic seltzer, “Also… this shit’s completely weak.” 

“But it tastes good, doesn’t it?” Aleister asked with a smile on his face. Dasha glared at him, but Pierre only rolled his eyes. None of them had noticed the spider in the darkest corner of the room, the one who had been making profiles of all of them. Two white men - both with blond hair - were involved in organized crime with a half-russian, half-japanese woman, one that was masculine in nature and knew her way around the business world. 

“Pierce is busy,” Pierre said at last. 

“I swear, if Pierce doesn’t arrive in five minutes, I’ll do it,” she said while leaning into her chair, “He’s busy with what, exactly? Messing around with Jenna? Speaking of… will Jenna be here?” 

“No, Pierce is coming here by himself.” Dasha scoffed at this.

“Great, I always love a good sausage party,” she said sarcastically. 

“Give me a break. The others are on their way, you just have to give them a minute. Besides, you and Pierce were the only ones in that helicopter, so obviously-” 

“Oh god, really? A… chrome pink to purple car? God, even I’m not that flashy,” Aleister quipped as he looked out the window. 

“You wanna say that again?” Dasha threatened him “It’s a good car.” As Pierre greeted Pierce by the front door, they embraced one another in a hug. 

“Oh, uh- I thought you were gonna get out of that when you’re not in public?” Pierce asked as he pulled away. Both men stared at Pierre’s fake chest. Pierre shrugged. 

“I kinda forgot about it. It’s kinda fun,” he replied, “Also I figured it was just easier to wait until I’m getting ready for bed.” Pierce nodded in agreement. 

“I get it,” he said. Claude got a good look at Pierce and pieced the puzzle together; Pierce Bronson had been mentioned briefly during his research, but that was because he’s Pierre’s right-hand man. It’d only make sense for him to rescue Pierre. But what was Dasha’s role in all of this? As for Pierce himself, he was a black man with a good taste in fashion and hair. He wore pieces that Claude knew Sebastian wished he could pull off. However, Pierce’s clothes could be too masculine for Sebastian’s tastes. 

“So what’s on the table for discussion?” Pierce asked after he introduced himself to Aleister and sat down. 

“We’re trying to figure out just… well, just about everything,” Pierre admitted. Pierce nodded. 

“Let’s start with the basics: the main crew is coming over here along with about 30 or so lower-ranking members. Byron’s coming along as well.” Pierre smiled at that. 

“Really? Awesome! I think he and Hattie will love this town. Apparently it’s full of rich demonic history,” Pierre said with a devious smile. 

“Ah… Yes, that’s true,” Aleister said with a nod, “That’s why I moved here.” That was the very reason that Claude and Sebastian chose this town, too. Shit. 

“Well, Byron was complaining to me about how he’s scared of demons,” Pierce said with a shrug, “And you know Hattie. Such a know-it-all, especially about demons.” 

“And true crime,” Pierre added, “But still. They’ll love the aesthetic, at least. It’s very European.” A demonologist was on their side? That did not bode well for Claude and Sebastian. They weren’t scared, but it’d certainly give them some inconveniences. 

“So they’re heading up as we speak. Now… Aleister, what can you offer us?” Pierce asked as he leaned into his chair and crossed his arms, “We know you’ve been involved in some human trafficking, which we’re absolutely not about. If we see you trying to abduct someone, you can consider this partnership terminated. You’ll also end up with a few broken bones. So! What else do you have for us?” 

“...Organs,” he replied with a dark stare, “I’m going to pretend that I’m not offended by what you just said, considering that I never actually abducted anyone.”

Pierre stared at him with a face that was both concerned and confused, “... You can’t just lie to us? Bud?? Like… I don’t know how you’d think you’d just say that and think that we’d all let it slide? We already know. That’s part of what we wanted to reach out to you for. The chemicals you used were very… precise in a way. “

“I get them from a guy. An undertaker.” 

“Oh? What’s his name?” Dasha asked. 

“Undertaker.” The three gang members stared at him. Dasha laughed. 

“Funny,” she said, “That’s a nickname?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know his real name. He’s very underground about most of the things he does. But he knows how to prepare a corpse for a funeral.” 

“Oh! That’s where you get organs from, then?” Pierce asked. 

“... No,” Aleister replied with that same dark tone as before. The amount of times this man switched from being over-dramatic yet happy to blunt and ominous was disturbing, even for Claude. 

Pierce shared Claude’s feelings as he said, “Oh!” 

“I don’t want to know where you get it from, as long as it’s high-quality,” Pierre sighed. 

“It is!” Aleister returned to his usual cheerful self, “I can promise you that!” Pierce glanced at Pierre, then shivered. 

“Hey, is it just me or is it cold in here?” he asked. Considering that Pierce was closest to Claude, it made sense that’d he shiver. But his body was not shivering from the cold. 

“Uhh… I dunno. I don’t mind it,” Pierre shrugged. 

“It is, now that you mention it,” Aleister said, “Oh! Maybe it’s a ghost… or a demon?” 

“It feels like AC,” Dasha shook her head. 

“Well, I don’t use it during the afternoon!” Aleister replied, “Let’s contact it.” 

“No,” Pierre and Dasha said. 

“I might be a bit out of line for saying this… but maybe dealing with all of this demon nonsense is… pointless? Because it doesn’t exist?” Pierre said. 

“ да ,” Dasha said with a nod, “It’s absolutely bullshit.” Absolutely bullshit? Claude laughed. Pierce jumped, which caught Claude off-guard. Surely he didn’t hear that, right?

As Pierce looked around, he asked, “Did… did you guys hear that?” Everyone was quiet, especially Claude. Perhaps it was time to go. 

“Let’s talk to it!” Aleister said as he pulled out a Ouija board. 

“Oh, no. Not like that,” Pierce said as he shook his head. 

“Fuck. That!” Dasha said. 

“Those literally don’t work,” Pierre sighed, “According to Hattie, I guess.” Claude had to laugh once again. 

“Those only work for demons,” he whispered,joking to himself. Pierce jumped out of his chair. Oh. Now this was going to be fun. 

“Alright! Cool! I’m leaving,” Pierce said, “Nope, nope, nope.” 

“What?” Pierre asked, a concerned look on his face, “What did you hear?” Pierce only shook his head. 

“Stay!” Aleister said with a determined look on his face. Claude supposed that he might as well mess with them. Maybe send a warning towards Pierre’s way. He’d hate to see a soul like his pass on because he had too much passion. 

Too much passion. The thought alone made Claude hungry. But when he looked at Pierre, he felt no hunger. It was a different feeling entirely. Pierce shook his head as he sat down. 

“If I hear this thing again, I’m leaving,” Pierce said.

“Fine by me,” Pierre shrugged. The three men placed two fingers on the planchette. 

“... This is some bullshit,” Dasha sighed before following suit. Would Claude actually control the planchette? It could be fun. However, they’d never know the truth of the board literally sold in toy stores. 

Well, let them never know. 

“Is there anyone with us?” Aleister asked. Immediately, the planchette moved to “YES”. 

“Fuuuuck that,” Pierce said, “Okay, Aleister, stop it.” 

“I would never treat a guest like this!” he replied, “Okay! Uh… Spirit! What brings you here?” Claude stifled a chuckle. He spelled out “PIERRE” with the planchette. 

“...Ah,” Pierre said before he laughed, “See, this is what always happens. Every time I do some weird shit like this with Byron and Hattie, the spirit or whatever latches onto me, but I never see it or feel it.” 

“You don’t feel it staring at you?” Aleister asked, “I certainly do.” 

“I feel like it’s behind me,” Pierce shivered, “Fuck this, man. Fuck it sooo much!” 

“Enough. What do you want from Pierre, you fuck?” Dasha asked. The planchette paused completely. 

“... Uhhh,” Aleister said, “Okay… Hello?” 

“See? This is exactly what happens,” Pierre scoffed, “It’ll make a basic threat but never say exactly what it wants.” Slowly, the planchette began to move. 

S-O-U-L. 

Okay, Claude was messing around, hoping to make Pierre laugh. And it worked, even though everyone else seemed horrified. 

“Oh, really?” Pierre teased, “Are you sure, Mr. Demon? You really want my soul that badly?” The planchette slid over to “YES.”

“Aww, that’s too bad! I was really hoping we could at least meet in person before we do something like that. Maybe buy me dinner at least. And maybe - if you’re nice enough - you can have this body, too!” 

“AHH! Stop flirting with the demon! While such words are very tantalizing, you are only taunting the demon! It knows you mean none of that!” Aleister spoke very dramatically, throwing up his free arm. 

“Oh, I mean it. I’m a monster fucker,” Pierre shrugged. Aleister stared at him with horror. 

“...What?” he asked, “You want to… fuck the demon? Like… actually?” 

“If he’s hot, sure!” Pierre laughed, “I mean… even if Mr. Demon here is totally ugly by human standards, he’s still got a shot! So what do you say? Do we have a deal?” 

“PIERRE!” Aleister shrieked, “Don’t say… d-deal! It will take your soul!!” Pierre laughed again. 

“Come on, it’s not real!” Pierre said. 

“What, were you messing with us this whole time?” Pierce asked, seemingly having calmed down thanks to Pierre’s antics.

“... No. Just wanted to make you feel better. Honestly, I don’t know what’s happening,” Pierre pouted, “It’s not fair. This cannot be real.” 

“Oh, it’s real, love,” Claude finally said to all of them. However, he didn’t dare reveal himself. 

“Alright, cool! I’m out,” Pierce said as he quickly stood up. 

“No! We have to say goodbye!” Aleister said, grabbing his hand. 

“Ohhh, no! Do not do that,” Claude managed to sound genuinely scared. Pierre looked genuinely concerned as they all said goodbye. Silence followed afterward. 

“... Did you lot really think that would work?” Claude sighed at last, “You really are foolish, aren’t you?” Aleister shrieked and ran out of the room. 

“Alright, alright. Who’s playing games with us?” Dasha asked as she cocked a gun. 

“I didn’t know that demons were British,” Pierre quipped, “Show yourself… intruder.” Claude laughed.

“You know, you don’t have to make a deal with me just to get a date. You’re rather charming on your own,” he said to Pierre, “But now that we’re all here together, I must warn you: trying to take any demonic artifacts will only result in your death.” 

“... Well, duh! That’s the fun part,” Pierre replied, “Tell me, are you actually as handsome as you sound? I’d like to see.” 

“You flatter me. I’m not going to show you any of my forms for now. Let’s make a deal, Pierre Filimor Achilles Labelle; I will meet you in three days time at the ball. I shall reveal my human form there and we may civilly discuss your plans.”

“... Damn,” Pierre sighed, “I guess this disguise is kind of easy to see through.” Pierce shook his head. 

“It’s a demon. It has to know who you are immediately, right?” He asked. 

“Actually, I had to do research,” Claude replied. 

“...Huh. Well, Mr. Demon, you will be seeing all of us at this ball,” Dasha said. 

“That’s fine. But my business is with Pierre and Pierre alone.” 

“As his bodyguard, I will protect Pierre with my entire being. I will not allow anything sketchy to go down.” Claude stayed silent. 

“... Well, how about this: if you promise not to kill me during the dance, then Dasha will back off.” 

“No! I refuse to trust a demon,” Dasha said. Claude laughed.

“Good choice,” he said, “I don’t mind you keeping a watchful eye, actually. I just genuinely want to talk to Pierre before he makes a rash decision.” Well, that wasn’t all. Honestly, there was something about his human that genuinely intrigued him. Perhaps his little psychic friends were right about him attracting spirits and demons. 

“... Understood,” Pierre sighed, “Dasha, you will keep an eye on me until I call you off.” 

“Got it,” Dasha said with a brief nod. 

“... I’m very excited for that ball,” Claude said, “I’ll leave you all alone for now. Until then.” As Claude left, he caught a bit of their conversation. 

“...This is so weird,” Pierce said as he shook his head. 

“Hey, how come we only just heard him, but you were the only one that heard him earlier?” Pierre asked. Pierce shrugged. 

“I don’t know!” Pierce said with a shrug. 

“Pierce- No, Pierre,” Dasha said before sighing, face palming, “Sorry. Anyways, are you really sure that it’s okay to just trust a demon?” 

“... We’re going to have to,” Pierre said, “I’ve been put in a corner.” 

“That was the point all along,” Claude said to himself. He stopped walking as soon as he was far enough to be unable to hear them, a smug smile on his face. 

Claude knew the game of humans far too well; he had to play nice from the very beginning, win their trust, and then slowly make them realize that he was not their friend. Once they realized this, he’d strike. It’s a tried and true formula, albeit a bit boring. Perhaps that’s why Sebastian always tried to show off. But being a show off was not in Claude’s nature; he was just very talented in many areas and confident in his abilities. Showing off was a sign of insecurity, and Claude was no show-off. 


	4. Do Unto Others

“What did you do all day today, Claude?” Alois asked, a fake smile on his face. The two were in their home and Claude hadn’t stopped thinking about the Sixth Street Serpents. They would all be gathering with one another tonight. As much as he wanted to keep his word, he doubly wanted to spy on them. He looked at Alois. 

“I was busy with work,” he replied. Alois groaned. 

“That stuff again?” he asked, “Isn’t that boring?” 

“This time it wasn’t boring.” 

“Really? What did you work on, then?” Claude thought about the consequences of telling the truth. It’d give him an excuse to watch them again. But lying was much safer. 

“Tell me the truth,” Alois ordered. He’d been thinking for too long. 

Shit. 

“Well, if you must know, I’m investigating a gang that’s moved down here in search of immortality,” Claude said, then sighed, “It sounds ridiculous, honestly.” However, it had piqued Trancy’s interest. 

“Really? That sounds like fun! Can you show me?” He asked. 

“...Show you what?” 

“Anything! Wait… it’s not the Sixth Street Serpents, is it?” Claude forced himself not to roll his eyes. Surely the fact that this country allowed such debaucherous people a celebrity status truly showed how undeveloped it was. 

“... It is,” Claude replied. 

“No WAY! That’s so cool! Am I going to meet them?” 

“Hopefully not,” Claude deadpanned. Alois pouted. 

“Why not? And don’t say it’s because they’re dangerous. That’s the whole point.” Claude stared at him. 

At last, he said, “Because that would mean that they’re completely against me.” 

“Well, what if we just… try to sneak in?” 

Immediately, Claude replied, “That’s not how it works.” 

“And why not?” 

“... Gangs are very methodical when it comes to initiation. The Sixth Street Serpents are no different, forcing members to tattoo or brand themselves with the very symbol of their gang. Allies do not have to do such things, though.” 

“Whoa… So COOL!” That was the exact opposite of cool. That sounded like a nightmare to Claude. It was a sign that they were deeply connected to the group, bound to it for the rest of their lives. 

Like a contract seal. 

Claude frowned suddenly. 

“It’s… Alois,” he sighed, “I’m not showing you off to a group that I’m actively working against.” 

“I never said that,” Alois narrowed his eyes, “I want to see what you’ve been working on.” 

“...That I can do,” Claude said with a nod. For this one occasion, Claude let Alois into his office. As expected, it was immaculately clean save for a few papers scattered right next to the computer. Alois immediately took notice of a notebook nearby and grabbed it. As Claude sat down, he immediately realized which note book that was. 

“Hmm,” Alois said as he looked through all the notes Claude had taken on Pierre Labelle.

“...You wouldn’t happen to have a crush on this guy, would you?” Alois asked at last, handing it back to Claude. 

“No,” Claude quickly replied, giving a sufficient enough answer for Alois. However, Claude was at least impressed by Pierre’s tenacity and his actions because of it. If only it could be used for something good. 

And by something good, he meant something that benefited him.

“What do you want to look at?” Claude asked, “These are unfinished notes.” He was pointing at the papers on the table. 

“That’s fine. Do you have any information on the other members. Like… Rosé Duvall?” Alois asked. Claude nodded and pulled up a document from his computer. 

“Rosé Duvall is a model and one-hit-wonder that’s currently working on a second album. However, being involved with the Serpents means she is far more dedicated to the gang than her own personal endeavors. She is the face of the Serpents,” Claude read through his notes. 

“I know that already. What else have you found?” 

Through his invisible irritance, Claude continued, “Rosé Duvall is… well, that’s my physical notes on her-” 

“Don’t you think she’s hot?” Alois asked bluntly. 

“... She’s attractive, sure, but-” 

“What else?” Alois asked. Claude continued to look through his notes. 

“Here’s something. Rosé is often seen with Pierre, of course, but she’s also seen with two others- Pierce Bronson and one Jenna Curry.” 

“Jenna Curry?” 

“Jenna Curry is a self-made businesswoman that helps many aspiring entrepreneurs as well. It’s unsure whether or not she is directly involved with the Serpents. And then there’s Luna Barbosa, the PR manager on the Serpents. She’s often seen with Rosé as well.” 

“And she is…?” 

“... She’s directly connected to a drug cartel. That, however, is run by her father. It’s wise to assume that she also helps the gang with drugs.” 

“Is there anyone else?” Alois asked. 

“Well… there’s a few others I’ve seen with the public figures of the bunch, but- Oh! Dasha Romanov.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Another business woman. I saw her earlier today. She’s involved with a Russian company, though.” 

“Oh,” Alois said with a nod, “What a bunch of characters.” 

“... I suppose that’s one thing to call them,” Claude replied, “It’s best that I make dinner now.” 

“Yes! I’m starving, “Alois said. Claude stood up, expecting Alois to leave first. He just stood there, looking around. 

“Alois,” Claude said. Alois looked at him with a big smile. 

“Yes?” 

“...Do you want to look around here?” he asked. 

“Oh! No,” Alois said before quickly leaving. Claude figured that he didn't, but that was the thing about his office; it was very private and it was exactly where important artifacts were stored. Artifacts that Pierre wanted. 

\------------------------------------

“Hey, I’m picking up on a psychic soul,” Sebastian said, “Not sure what it wants, though.” 

“And you’re calling me about this… why?” Claude asked. It was 9 PM, an hour after dinner. Alois was in his room and Claude was in the kitchen, deciding whether to bake something or not. 

“Well, isn’t it fun to mess with those types? Especially when they actually know they’re psychics?” Sebastian asked, “Although… there’s so many humans who think they’re psychics and aren’t, but just as many psychics who are skeptics. Isn’t that wild?” 

“Not really. Psychics with non-psychic souls are very… amusing, though.” 

“Annoying as well, though,” Sebastian laughed, “But you’re not picking up on that?” 

“I’m choosing to ignore it. I need to focus on Pierre.” 

“... It might be connected,” Sebastian said. 

Claude sighed, “Pierre is friends with a psychic, but I doubt that it’s him.” 

“... No! Here’s a theory: it is him!” Sebastian said, “Do you remember the psychic’s name?” 

“No. But they have a demonologist on their side.” Claude could almost hear Sebastian frown. 

“That’s not good.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Then let’s check out this psychic,” Sebastian said, “It’s best to have him on our side!” 

“If that’s actually him, then he won’t immediately be on our side,” Claude sighed. 

“... Then we’ll convince him!” Sebastian replied, clearly smiling as he spoke. Claude gave in, deciding that baking would have to wait. 

The scent of the soul led them to an old house. It was completely gothic in look but seemed to actually be an old Victorian. Claude glared at Sebastian. 

“This house looks foreclosed and abandoned,” he whispered. 

“But it clearly isn’t. There’s a light on.” Sebastian pointed at the lightsource. Claude sighed and the two demons approached the house. 

“So how shall we- Claude!” Sebastian whispered, putting his arm in front of Claude. Claude stared at him, completely confused. Claude hadn’t even moved an inch. 

“I believe there’s some kind of barrier blocking us from getting in,” Sebastian said with wide eyes. 

“It’s just a salt barrier,” Claude sighed, “Have you honestly never encountered a demonologist?” Sebastian shook his head. Claude smirked. 

“This should be fun, then,” Claude said. He approached the very edge of the salt barrier, which was right outside the door. He frowned at it, deciding what to do. Unfortunately, something as simple as salt - if piled up and mixed with a mixture of herbs and flowers - blocked even Satan himself from entering a door. However, he expected the windows to be fair game. Sebastian watched as Claude moved to the side of the house. 

“Ah, see, there’s nothing here,” Claude whispered, “But the window’s closed.” Sebastian approached him. 

“Well, here’s an option,” Sebastian said before punching through the window. Claude glared at him as glass shards fell into the house. 

“Uhhhh,” a male voice said from inside the house, “What the hell was that?” 

“You idiot,” Claude whispered as he pushed Sebastian through the window, “I can’t believe you just did that.” Sebastian pulled Claude through, barely managing to do so. 

“It was the only way,” Sebastian said as he fixed the window with a wave of his hand. However, the glass shards were still present. Claude sighed and held his head with his hands. As soon as they heard footsteps, they ran off to the kitchen, which could completely see the living room. They watched as two women and a man slowly walked downstairs. 

“Ah, Christ. Sebastian,” Claude said, allowing his irritance to shine through, “We left evidence of-” Sebastian put a finger to his lips, which were entwined in a smug smirk. Claude rolled his eyes and studied the humans. 

“Well, the salt barrier’s untouched,” Hattie sighed, her short hair moving slightly as she shook her head. She adjusted her large glasses.

“See this glass, though?” the psychic soul - the man - said, “It clearly came from the window, but the window isn't broken at all.” As he walked through the living room, the two demons noticed how he wore very casual clothing, but his black hair wasn’t too messy. He had pale skin, emerald green eyes, and a black septum piercing alongside an eyebrow piercing and earrings. The other woman - professional-looking, black hair up in a bun, wearing glasses similar to Hattie’s - just stood there as if she had no clue what to do. Eventually, she sat down on a couch. 

“Guys, let’s just do a tarot reading,” the woman Claude knew as Luna Barbosa said. Hattie and the psychic looked at one another and agreed. Claude didn’t realize that Sebastian was freaking out until the other demon was tapping his shoulder. 

“No way, this is so cool!” Sebastian said, “That’s the psychic I follow, Byron Skelton! That’s him, Claude! I’m about to meet an actual psychic soul!” Claude said nothing, listening to their conversation. Byron set a deck of tarot cards down on the coffee table, which also had three mugs and two TV remotes on it. Hattie watched intensely while Luna crossed her arms and leaned into the couch. Sebastian clutched Claude’s arm as Byron shuffled the cards. He stopped to say something. 

“Guides, deck: to the best of your ability, give us the most accurate answers to our questions,” he briefly spoke before cutting the deck into thirds, then putting it back together in a different order. He then knocked on the deck a few times before beginning. 

“Okay,” Byron said, a bit more relaxed, “I-” Suddenly, he wasn’t so relaxed. He quickly looked at the kitchen but saw nothing. However, Claude and Sebastian were standing right there. 

Byron shivered and looked away, “Uh… Luna, what questions do you have?”

“Hang on: did you see something?” Hattie asked. 

“No,” Byron replied, “I’m probably just paranoid because of the glass. That’s all.” Hattie nodded. Something felt terribly wrong to her, but she didn’t want to freak the other two out. 

“I want to know about the history of this town… and this house,” Luna said. Byron nodded and stared at the deck in his hands. 

“Guides, this will be a reading concerning this town and this house. First and foremost, what is the history of this house? By this, I want to know the overarching feelings this house holds due to its history,” Byron said before pulling the first three cards from the deck. He then flipped them over and frowned ever so slightly. 

“Hmm...we’ve pulled Temperance, The Moon, and Five of Cups. Now, Five of Cups is the addiction card, so perhaps a previous owner of the home struggled with addiction. It could be more than one as well or even just someone who lived here. The Moon deals with mystery, the occult, and occasionally psychics. Hattie, you mentioned this house once being owned by a medium, right?” 

“Right.She died due to mysterious circumstances, but it all screams deal with the devil to me.” 

“Right. That’s where Temperance comes in. Not the demon stuff, but more so the complexity of the scenario. I doubt that the medium struggled with addiction - as this is the history of the whole house itself. Each card could even represent a different owner.”

“...And now we’re the owners,” Hattie said with a nod. 

“Well, it’s another safehouse for the Serpents, but yeah,” Luna replied, “So… what exactly does this card have to do with anything?” She pointed to Temperance, which was depicted in this deck as a woman talking with a bartender. 

“Ah- Well,” Byron began to say, “Temperance can also be involved with alchemy and healing, so maybe-” 

“You know, a wiccan once owned this home,” Hattie said, “It was exactly why that medium bought this house.” Byron nodded. 

“That’s possible,” he replied, “Okay, I have a question: What signs would we see if there were any unsavory spirits or demons lurking in this home?” Again, he pulled three cards. 

“Wow, isn’t this exciting? He’s right on the money,” Sebastian whispered. Claude said nothing, focused on this next pull. 

“Oh! This is interesting,” Byron said, “There’s Six of Pentacles, but it’s upright. This card means generosity and charity. What an odd card to pull here. Perhaps we’ll find money where we otherwise wouldn’t.” He laughed, signaling that he was just joking. 

“The other two cards make much more sense; Nine of Swords is reversed but Three of Swords is upright. Three of Swords is our heartbreak card, so we may see a relationship fall apart if a family or couple lived here.” 

“Thank god we’re not actually staying here,” Hattie sighed. 

“It’s too bad that I am, though. I just started seeing a guy,” Luna pouted. 

“It’s possible, but not always. And we don’t know if any demons are attached to this house,” Byron replied, “Nine of Swords upright represents depression and loneliness, so I would characterize this as self-isolation or an owner staying in this house a lot, caving into themselves.” 

“... That sounds like he’s just trying to play off a bad pull,” Claude said while shaking his head. 

“But you can smell it; he’s a psychic soul,” Sebastian replied, “Did you know that Ciel is a seer?” Claude looked at him. 

“No, but it makes sense,” Claude replied. Seer souls were a step below psychic souls; they could see supernatural beings for what they were, but could not communicate with them directly or catch their attention as much as a psychic soul. 

Sebastian was right; Byron was certainly a psychic soul. But this made demonic attachment to a house appear rather tame. 

“Hattie, do you have a question?” Byron asked. 

“Does it have to be about the house?” 

“Hm… not necessarily!” Byron said, “Why don’t you think of one while I grab a soda?” Byron stood up, allowing Claude to realize how large the man was; he was one inch taller than Claude but was fat with a little muscle clearly underneath. That did not feel right at all for Claude, to actually be shorter than a human. As the two demons backed themselves away from the fridge, they stared back at Byron. 

Byron was staring at a dark corner as he opened a soda, nervousness clearly in his eyes. Claude had to admit that Byron had a very handsome face, but it was almost boyish in comparison to Sebastian, who looked much younger when compared to Claude. 

“Hon, I think I got something,” Hattie said. Byron returned to the living room and the demons continued to watch. 

“Yeah?” Byron asked as he sat down, “What’s up?” 

“Well, I was wondering if we could figure out if anyone aside from the medium died.” Byron stared at her, took a deep breath, then nodded. 

“Sure. Alright,” he said, “Guides, this is an unfortunate question, but we know that at least one person died in this home. What would we see in the present day that tells us if any others died or not? This can be feelings we experience, the overall appearance of the house, or anything else that could help.” He pulled three cards. 

“Can you even ask something like that?” Claude asked. However, Sebastian shushed him.

“Oh… ohhh,” Byron said, “See the Ace of Pentacles? That’s us.” 

“Explain,” Luna said as she leaned into the couch. 

“Well, this is our opportunity card. It also represents gifts and abundance. You actually were able to get us this house for free. It’s clear that we were given something because more than one person died here.” Luna thought about that as Byron continued the analysis. 

“Five of Swords and Ace of Swords were also pulled. To me, the Ace of Swords is almost saying ‘Hey, it’s pretty clear that more people died here’. It’s our clarity card, after all. As for Five of Swords, perhaps the deaths were caused by something that didn’t have to happen, like a duel or drama. Something that could’ve been solved had at least one party not been so cruel.” 

“...Maybe five people died?” Luna suggested. Byron smiled at her and shook his head a little. 

“I mean, maybe! I doubt it, though. I believe that only two more people died here. I just see two other people that we don’t know about. I’m seeing two men, to be honest.” 

“...Is he confusing us for two dead people?” Claude asked, wanting to laugh. 

“He can’t see us, dickhead,” Sebastian shook his head, “What’s with you? You’re really being rude to this man for no reason.” Claude stared at Sebastian with a slight frown. 

“Hmmm,” Byron said as he stared down at the cards that he already pulled, “Oh! How about this: What connections does this house have to the town’s history?” As he pulled three more cards, Hattie looked around. Those glass shards were really bothering her. How did they appear from nowhere. 

“Byron, are you sure you didn’t drop a glass or something?” she asked.

“Uhhh… I’m pretty sure!” Byron replied as he set the three cards down. He frowned. 

“Hmm. Nine of Wands is here. That’s our bravery and breaking barriers card. Maybe it’s part of why this town now embraces its demonic history? As for Ace of Cups… it’s our emotional card, the flow of emotions. But it can also be about love or clarity or an overall outpour of… emotions.” He seemed concentrated, but he was actually pissed off with this pull. 

“Well, I can say for sure that it was involved in some legal action that never went through any actual courts,” Byron said while pointing at Justice, which was reversed, “It’s odd. I feel like tourists maybe love this house, but the locals hate it. There was some actual justice left behind, but because it’s now in our hands, it’s clear that it has received its punishment.” 

“... Byron. It’s a house,” Luna said. 

“Maybe it’s referring to an owner or someone who committed crime or even a demon,” Byron shrugged, “Let’s move on.” 

“The Ace of Cups is totally throwing him off,” Claude chuckled, “It’s so fun to watch a psychic fumble.” 

“See? I told you this would be fun,” Sebastian said, “We should scare them.” 

“I scared enough humans already,” Claude said while shaking his head, “The floor is yours.” Sebastian grinned and walked away.

“Byron, we should ask if there’s a specific demon currently present,” Hattie said. Byron tilted his head while deciding if that was a good question to ask. 

“Okay. Guides, I’m going to set this first card aside as our demon itself,” Byron said, “However, I will ask you four questions, each answer correlating with a different card. What are its strengths, its weaknesses, what it wants, and how to act in order to remove the demon.” He settled four more cards in a semicircle around the main card. He then flipped the main card over. 

“Oh! A demon with feminine energy,” Byron said with a slight smile, “This is the Queen of Wands, and she represents someone that is charismatic and vibrant, yet has control. It’s upright, so we can assume that it won’t show its dark side right away. It will appear very compelling, but it is only manipulative.” He flipped the next card over. 

“Ah. See, it will prey on someone and gaslight them,” he said while pointing at the Eight of Swords, “It controls them, almost forcing them to stay in this house and isolate themselves from the world.” 

“It’s like you said earlier,” Luna said with a nod. 

“Exactly,” Byron said, suddenly jumping. A phone was ringing. Hattie sighed and the trio ignored it. 

“That obviously wouldn’t work, Sebastian,” Claude shook his head. 

“Okay, next card… Hierophant reversed? Hmm. Maybe a lack of structure or ritual is what weakens it? Next card. Oh! Five of Wants. That’s our conflict card, so perhaps it wants to cause mischief.” 

“...But it’s a demon. The ultimate goal is to eat souls,” Hattie said. 

“Sure, but every demon has a different goal aside from that, a goal B if you will. Right?” Byron asked her. Hattie nodded. 

“Still,” she replied, “What’s the last card?” 

“...Seven of Swords,” he said. 

“What does that mean?” Luna asked. 

“It means that… in order to defeat the demon, you have to stealthily wait for the right time to get rid of it.” 

“Or maybe you have to play along with the demon and give it what it pleases, because it will ultimately be coming for your soul,” Hattie said, “Demons don’t bother humans just to bother them. They always want something.” Byron grabbed the card and leaned into his chair, staring at it. 

“...That doesn’t sit right with me,” he said while shaking his head, “It just… that’s not right.” 

“Honestly, I agree,” Hattie said, “I would not advise stealthily dealing with a demon.” Suddenly, the power went out. Byron yelped. 

“Jeez, you’re such a scaredy-cat,” Luna sighed, “I’ll go see what’s up.” She turned on her phone’s flashlight. However, when she did that, she jumped and screamed. 

“What?!” Byron said, suddenly standing up. 

“I… I saw something! Something fucked up. Like a… a…” Luna couldn’t say what she saw. It was confusing to look at. 

“...Was it a demon?” Hattie asked. Suddenly, the power came back on. However, so did the TV, which had been off during the entire time. Byron trembled, staring directly into the picture. Hattie sighed. 

“It’s just a weird technical glitch, hon,” she said, “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, but why the hell did the power go out?” Luna asked, “Something’s up.” 

“... You’re probably right. Byron, end the reading,” Hattie said, “We’re going to the basement.” 

“No. You two are going to the basement. I’m staying up here,” Byron said. 

“Aww, afraid of the basement? Really?” Luna teased as Byron ended the reading. Hattie shrugged and walked towards the basement door. Once both girls were done and his deck was put away, Byron stood up, bringing his soda with him to check on the answering machine. There was no message left.

“Hmph. Good,” he said. As he looked up, he briefly saw Claude, which made him almost spill his drink. His heartbeat quickened as he tried to reason with himself, thinking he had just seen a shadow. But had he? 

“Aww, you’re really too cute when you’re scared,” Sebastian said from the living room. Claude stared at him. 

“What are you planning?” he asked Seb, who only put a finger to his lips. Once Byron sat down, he wondered why he felt like he was being watched. He bounced his leg, hoping that the girls were good. 

“Hey, Byron,” Hattie suddenly said while banging on the basement door, “You locked us in here.” 

“Bastard,” Luna murmured. 

“Uhhh… No I didn’t? Doesn’t that lock from the inside?” Byron asked. 

Hattie groaned, “Stop!! What the hell, Byron?! Open the door.” 

“I didn’t lock it,” Byron sighed as he stood up once more, this time with a quick sigh of irritance. As he walked to the basement door, he stopped in his tracks. 

That shadow that could have been a man he saw earlier. Did he lock the door?

He immediately turned around and grabbed a nearby gun, cocking it. 

“Stay there,” he said to them.

“We can’t go anywhere else,” Luna sighed. Byron slowly looked around before yelling. 

“Show yourself,” he said, “Don’t be a creep.” 

“My, my,” Sebastian said, allowing Byron to hear him. Byron turned around and looked at the staircase. Nothing.

“I didn’t realize you’d be rude to a fan,” Sebastian continued. As Byron continued to look around, he saw no one. 

“... Where are you?” Byron demanded to know. Sebastian laughed. 

“I am wherever you want me to be,” Sebastian said. 

“That’s not very scary,” Claude quipped. Only Sebastian could hear him, and he frowned. Finally, he revealed himself. He was right behind Byron. He had always been right behind him. 

“... Where are you?” Byron asked again. Sebastian tapped his shoulder. Byron turned around and nearly shot him. 

“What the- what the fuck do you want?!” he asked. 

“This is unrelated, but I’m a huge fan. I’ve watched most of your videos,” Sebastian said with a smile, but Byron was not impressed. 

“... Uh-huh. What do you want, bud?”

“Oh! Right! You see… we figured out from your scent that you’re a psychic soul. That really sticks out to us.” 

“... Byron?” Hattie asked, knocking on the door, “Byron, let us-” 

“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” Sebastian said, “We’re just having a conversation as men.”

“Excuse me? Don’t talk to her like that,” Byron said, “I could shoot you right now if I wanted.” 

“And you’d think that’d stop me… how, exactly? Come on, you’re smarter than this. After all, the cards told you all about me.” Byron stepped back, but only ended up bumping into Claude. 

“Come on, that pull could describe any demon,” Claude said as he grabbed onto Byron’s shoulders. Byron found that he couldn’t lift his shoulders, but he could move his elbows. 

“Claude. I rigged that pull,” Sebastian sighed, “Honestly, how dense are you?” 

“Excuse me? How dense are you? That wasn’t scary at all,” Claude said.

Byron looked around, “Uh, if it helps… I was pretty scared-” 

“It was scary. And besides… I’m not done at all. No, this is just the beginning.” 

“Actually, this is the end,” Byron quipped before managing to slip his arm away from Claude and shoot Sebastian. 

“Bullseye,” he joked as Claude grabbed his arm again. Sebastian stared at him with wide eyes. Well, that certainly wasn’t expected. Byron certainly didn’t expect him to still be standing, either. 

“Byron, you idiot!” Luna hissed. 

“You can’t shoot a demon and expect it to die,” Hattie sighed. 

“... I will admit that you got a solid hit on me,” Claude added, referring to how Byron elbowed his chest in order to escape, “That still hurts a bit, honestly.” 

“This definitely hurts, too,” Sebastian said before he spat out the bullet into his hand, “Eugh. Why did you do that?” 

“Well, you two clearly came here to harm us-” 

“Actually, Sebastian and I snuck in to see what you lot were up to. I already know you’re all connected to Pierre Labelle.” 

“Oh?” Sebastian asked, “Is that truly why you came here, Claude?” He pouted, which made Claude roll his eyes. 

“It’s so odd to face a foe with both a psychic and a demonologist at their side. And to be their friend, no less!” Claude said. 

“Quit the dramatics,” Byron sighed, “What do you want?” 

“... Well, Sebastian wanted to just check you out, but I have a few questions.” 

“Uh. No way,” Hattie said. Suddenly, the door unlocked and both women almost fell out of the stairwell into the living room. 

“Hey!” Luna said, “What the hell, man?” Claude laughed to himself. 

“Listen,” Claude said, suddenly growing serious, “It is imperative that you cooperate with me. I wonder if Pierre is using you all.” The three all just stared at him. 

“Did you really think we’d do all this just so Pierre can get immortality for himself?” Luna asked, “That’s so bullshit.” Both demons looked at her. 

“Agreed,” Hattie said with a nod, “Don’t you think we have our own reasons for doing this? We want at least some power.” 

“Hell, I’d like to become a demon myself!” Luna laughed. Hattie shook her head. 

“No. Being a demon has more cons than being human.”

“Well, I’d like to be more than human, anyways. I don’t care,” Luna replied with a shrug. 

“Enough,” Sebastian said, glaring at her, “You all are actually that weird that you want to actually become a demon? Prematurely? Before your own death?” 

“Not me,” Hattie said, Byron nodding in agreement, “I know too much about demons to say that I’d ever want to be one. It comes with too much philosophical questioning. Immortality is a drag. But the powers that demons have? Now that’s something to look into.” 

“... Understandable,” Claude replied, “However… you want that to fight back against demons, correct?” 

“Not necessarily,” Byron replied, finally able to pull away from Claude, “Tell you what. Maybe there’s a way to work with you guys.” 

“Byron-” 

“No, you’re right,” Luna agreed with him, “We all could strike a deal or something-” 

“Not the right wording-” 

“Oh, a deal would be great,” Sebastian grinned, “However, I’m already in a contract.” 

“Enough. Until you lot can come to an agreement to not attempt to steal any artifacts, we cannot do anything,” Claude said. There was silence. 

“Great. Now that I won’t be interrupted, let me say this: it’s a fair option - one that we’ll talk to Pierre about - but it’s not something that will involve any contracts. Understood?” Hattie asked the two. 

“... Sure!” Sebastian said with a smile. Claude simply nodded. 

“Understood,” he said, “We’ll leave now.” 

“Yes, we’ll unfortunately leave. However… it’s too bad that I cannot eat your soul yet, Byron. Honestly, if I weren’t in a contract already, I’d be all over you,” Sebastian teased Byron. Byron stared at him with a disgusted expression. 

“Right,” he replied, “Bye now.” 

“Oh. Byron. The salt barrier,” Hattie quickly said. 

“Oh!! Let me get the door,” Byron said. He opened the door for them and kicked the salt to the side. Claude and Sebastian quickly left, not expecting Byron to kick the salt back in line. 

“Ah- Hey!” Sebastian said, “Really?” 

“I’m not taking any chances,” he replied, then smiled at Seb’s frown, “Bye now!” He slammed the door in their faces. 

“...What a rude bunch,” Claude said, “Oh well.” Sebastian followed after Claude. 

“Are you really trying to figure out a way to do this - god forbid- diplomatically?” Sebastian asked Claude. Claude stared at him with a frown. 

“Yes? That’s my job, Sebastian.”

“It’s gross. I could never. Well, unless I was ordered to do so.” 

“Well, we know you could never,” Claude said with a headshake. They both agreed on that and headed to their own homes. As soon as Claude arrived, he realized that Alois had already fallen asleep. That was fine for now. At least he’d have some peace and quiet while he baked. 


	5. Masquerade

The Masquerade Ball held by Aleister Chamber. The ballroom was enormous and full of people wearing elaborate masks. And yet, Claude could tell right away that something was wrong. The energy and smells of the bustling partygoers gave off something not entirely humans. There were plenty of humans, sure, but there were far too many supernatural beings to his liking. If only he could weed them out immediately. After all, there was room for only one. Well, maybe two; as long as Sebastian managed to be helpful, he could stay. But he was on thin ice. 

“Isn’t this just wonderful, Claude?” Alois asked, giggling and twirling around. Claude merely nodded. Trancy’s mask shone brightly with gems and over-the-top styling while Claude’s gold and black mask was simple yet put-together. 

“It’s… crowded,” Ciel frowned, holding himself. Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“This is absolutely my style,” he said with a smirk, red eyes peeking through a phantom half-mask affixed with black feathers. Ciel looked around, one blue eye staring out of a black and blue bauta mask; he refused to show his face to these strangers. 

“...It’s definitely not mine,” Claude shook his head. He studied the masks of various people, wondering where on earth Pierre Labelle could be. So many classic masks were on display, but just as many unique, comedic, and even detailed masks were present. And the gorgeous ball gowns and dresses! They were beautiful beyond imaginable and came in all sorts of colors. Some were shiny and seductive, others were muted and conservative. Some were mature, some were cutesy. 

“...I’m not going to dance,” Ciel said at last, shaking his head as the ball gowns and dressed twirled. It was a beautiful sight, yet poor Phantomhive could not participate in something like dancing; the boy was too clumsy. 

“Come on!” Alois pouted, dragging him away from Sebastian, “It’ll be fun!” As Ciel continued to protest, Sebastian took notice of Aleister Chamber, adorned in a luxurious cream and gold ensemble, a blood red brooch pinned to his ruffled collar. His jester mask - just as outrageously opulent as his outfit - did not hide his blond hair nor his lavender eyes. 

“No sign of Pierre,” Claude sighed, “How odd.” 

“Ah, but look,” Sebastian grabbed Claude’s shoulder and pointed at the crowd, “There! That’s Byron! And Hattie! And even Luna Barbosa.” Indeed, the trio were present; Byron was adorned in black and green, a rather silky shawl draped over a black turtleneck while Hattie and Luna wore the colors of the Sixth Street Serpents. Hattie wore black and purple while Luna wore black and pink. Neither of the women wore ball gowns. All three of their masks were rather simple, as they opted for masks that shielded the top half of their face and had a couple of gems affixed around their eyes. 

“...Ah,” Sebastian said suddenly, “I hope this doesn’t make Ciel panic.” 

“Hmm?” 

“With all of these masks around… I fear it may cause him to experience an episode.” 

“A panic attack?” Claude asked bluntly, “You may obviously take him out should that occur. For now, act normal.” 

“That’s not hard for me to do,” Sebastian replied, shrugging, “Oh, who’re those people? They’re wearing similar masks to Hattie and Luna.” Indeed, when Claude looked at where he was pointing, there were plenty of people wearing the exact same mask.

“Surely they’re all Serpents,” Claude murmured, “However… there’s a demon among them.” Sebastian chuckled. 

“You think so?” 

“I know so,” Claude shook his head, “It’s obvious. I just don’t know which one of them it is.” 

“But if there’s a demon already present… Then they’ve already betrayed you?” 

“Don’t.” 

“I’m only teasing you,” Sebastian chuckled again, “Claude. It’s a party. Try and relax.” 

“I am here for a mission. You may party to your heart’s content, just watch the children.” 

“... That’s a good plan,” Sebastian said. As he was about to walk away, he immediately shrank behind Claude. 

“Claude!” 

“What is it now?” Claude asked, annoyed.

“It’s… they’re here! Hannah and…,” he paused to lower his voice, “Grell.” It was like he didn’t even want to utter her name in fear that she’d hear him. Claude rolled his eyes. 

“Great. I don’t care. I’m over it. It’s none of your business, either.” 

“But Claude… I haven’t seen her since…” Claude looked at him with zero emotion.

“That’s your fault. Idiot.” 

“What?! Hey, it’s not my fault.” 

“It is. You should’ve acted like a man and at least apologized.” 

“I… Excuse me?!” 

“Go away, Michaelis. I’m busy,” Claude waved him off. Sebastian stared at him with widened eyes. Then he smiled. 

“You’re going to give me the cold shoulder? Really? Don’t you want to see what Hannah and Grell-” 

“No. I’m focused on Pierre Labelle and Pierre Labelle only. Go. Away.” Sebastian huffed and quickly left Claude’s side. Claude let out a sigh of relief before glancing at Grell and Hannah. Both of the women wore ball gowns; Grell’s was blood red and completely large and charge while Hannah’s was white and much more demure-looking. It was just like Hannah. Anytime she had worn something that reminded others of her true demonic nature, it had always made her uncomfortable. She really preferred white over black. What an odd trait for a demon. 

Claude analyzed the group of Serpents. Indeed, they all seemed to be gang members. However, six of them stuck out; the first looked exactly like Dasha Romanov, who opted for a suit. The second was also a woman who opted for a suit, but she was taller and more masculine than Dasha. She was also tanner and wore her short hair down in a loose style. The third was a black man; that was definitely Pierce, no question about it. The fourth was a woman slightly taller than Pierce thanks to the heels she was wearing; she was a black woman with purple dreads put up in a bun for the event. Her dress was definitely the most beautiful of the bunch and it wasn’t even a ball gown. Something about its professionalism perfectly encapsulated her femininity. However, the final two ladies were somewhat unknown to Claude. He assumed that the black woman with relaxed brown hair was Rosé Duvall, but he had no idea who this white woman before him was. She wore a pink dress that was definitely too short for a ball, but wrapped a fur coat around herself to hide its length. Honestly, Claude liked the look. He also liked but did not expect that Rosé would be wearing a pantsuit without any top underneath. What a daring but effective look indeed. The chains around her neck definitely drew attention to her chest and collarbones as well. 

And then someone wearing an ensemble beyond else Claude had seen so far stepped in. A gothic ball gown that incorporated an almost iridescent fabric that shifted from vibrant purple to light bubblegum pink with too many black details to count. A black faux fur shawl. Black velvet boots - possibly thigh high - just peeking out from the bottom of the dress. An ornate black choker worn around the plump neck. And finally, the mask that showed everyone in the room who was the most important figure in the room; it was a jester’s mask like Aleister’s, yet it was sinister and glamorous at the exact same time. The base mask was white and black yet had many intricate purple and pink details. Actual pink and purple gemstones - not the fake ones everyone else wore - hung from the tips of the mask.

Pierre had almost made himself look too obviously like himself.

Claude frowned as Pierre approached Aleister, wrapping him in a warm embrace. His platinum waves framed his mask and shoulders in a way too perfect in Claude’s eyes. He could feel the raging hot passion burn even from their 75 foot distance. As Claude stared too deep in thought, he didn’t notice Pierre staring at him. 

Pierre slowly made his way towards the demon, taking his time. He chatted with his subordinates and lieutenants. He gabbed with the fellow party-goers. He even managed to sneak a glance at Hannah and Grell elegantly dancing the night away. Claude hadn’t moved an inch until Pierre tapped his shoulder. 

“Care to dance?” he asked, offering a hand to Claude. Claude stared at his hand; it was a hand with a short base and long fingers tipped with medium coffin-shaped black nails. He took his hand with a gloved hand. 

“Ah- gloves?” Pierre asked, “Uhhh… not that there’s anything wrong with that, but-” 

“Allow me to take them off, then,” Claude simply replied before doing exactly as he said he would. This, however, revealed the very contract seal that Alois shared on his tongue. Claude wondered what Pierre’s reaction was to the seal; it passed for a tattoo, sure, but would he realize that it actually wasn’t one. Claude dared to even take his hand with that hand. They very quickly moved to the group of many dancers. 

“Do you know how to dance?” Claude asked him. Pierre laughed. 

“Dance, yes. Ball dance, not exactly,” he replied. Claude nodded. 

“No worries. Allow me to lead, then.” 

“For now,” Pierre shrugged. As the two danced a simple waltz, they stared at one another’s faces. Both were unable to read the other, which only made conversation much more tempting. 

“You’re not trying to avoid talking about the issue at hand, are you?” Pierre teased. 

“Come now. Why would I do such a thing?” Claude asked, “Your dress is marvelous, by the way. Are you currently disguised?” 

“Aww, you flatter me. But… to be honest… I don’t know. That’s why I put this mask on. I had a mask made for myself like all the others that was just much more showy, but… I couldn’t decide what makeup to do. So I’m currently faceless.” Pierre laughed like it was so natural to be conversing with a demon. They looked and sounded like old friends. 

“Faceless? So you’re just not wearing makeup,” Claude clarified. 

“Hey,” Pierre said with a fake forcefulness, “I was trying to be on the down-low about it.”

“So if you planned to disguise yourself all along, why make this mask in the first place?” Pierre had no answer for that except for a shrug. 

“It’s good that I commissioned it, though. It’s just too gorgeous, isn’t it?” 

“... Too gorgeous indeed.” 

“Oh. Ha ha. You think it’s too much, don’t you?” Pierre made Claude chuckle. This caught Hannah and Sebastian’s gaze. 

“It’s too much, love. Really, it is.” Was he giving into the old friend facade? Or was he actually warming up to the gang leader? 

“Well, I never believe there’s something as too much of a good thing.” 

“That’s obvious.” It was Pierre’s turn to laugh. 

“You know, you seem almost obsessed with me. I appreciate the attention… but why?” 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t play dumb. I knew that someone was following us a few days ago.”

“Oh. I genuinely didn’t know you could tell.” Silence followed. Pierre then laughed loudly. 

“I was teasing you! Were you actually following me? Oh… You.” Claude smirked. 

“Would you like to learn my name?” 

“I would, but I suppose it’s not that important,” Pierre spoke with the tone of a child that was truly grateful for all he’s received, but still wanted more. 

“...If we can come to an agreement, I’ll tell you my current name.” 

“That works for me! So tell me… why can’t I just have my cake and eat it, too?” 

“Hm?” 

“Why can’t I just take my immortality now rather than when I die?” Claude stopped dancing and stared into Pierre’s sapphire eyes. 

“Excuse me?” He whispered, grabbing onto Pierre’s wrist tightly. 

“Well… A little birdy told me that I’d become a demon when I die.”

“God. You two and your bird metaphors.” 

“Relax,” Pierre said as he pulled away from his grip, “It’s an American figure of speech.” Claude glanced at Alois and Ciel before continuing to dance with Pierre. 

“I don’t want to go through death, you see,” Pierre explained, “I don’t want to grow old or even somewhat old. The thought of myself being old, wrinkly, and retired freaks me out.” 

“... Is it because you’d be alone?” Claude asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. Pierre immediately tried to pull away, but Claude had a death grip on him. 

“But that’s the real reason any human I’ve talked to fears growing old. Their dark past haunts them when they’re old, drives them to insanity, and leads them to loneliness. You fear that, don’t you? It is not solely for vanity.” 

“... What does it-? Excuse me? Solely for vanity?” Claude stifled a laugh. 

“I can’t help but notice you take great pride in your looks.” 

“I’m not vain, thank you very much.”

“If you say so, love.” Claude twirled the two around.

“Hey, knock that off. If you spin me around too much, I’ll get vertigo,” Pierre warned him. 

“...Noted. So, Pierre… Let me tell you this: it’s going to be impossible for your plan to work. You see… I’m not an ordinary demon like my contemporaries. I am Hell’s Diplomat. I deal with problems just like the one you’re creating. We cannot allow for such a thing to occur. Now, if you want a demon to properly turn you, that’s one thing… But to steal an artifact, break into Hell via a portal, and somehow manage to achieve your immortality? Well, the last step wouldn’t even happen because you’d die in a way worse than any death on this little planet. All of you would. And if you’re trying to avoid death… that’d just be counter-productive. Do you see what I’m saying?” At first, Pierre said nothing. Right as Claude was about to continue, Pierre replied 

“Look, I understand what you’re saying, but this is kinda just our shtick.” 

“...What?” 

“Well… Okay, it’s a long story BUT here it goes: a long time ago… maybe eight years ago-” 

“That is nothing to a demon like me.” 

“Let me finish. About that many years ago, I was promoted to being the boss. Our last one died in a car crash. It was nasty. So I vowed from that day forth to take being the boss completely and utterly seriously. I stopped drinking and partying and figured out how to make the gang something more than just… well, a gang. We needed connections. And being myself - eldest son of a lawyer and a songwriter that belonged to a rich family - I certainly had those. And then we got the ball rolling. We were suddenly everywhere and the people treated us like icons. Icons of taboo, mind you, but icons nonetheless. Then all the powers of the world start coming after us. I’m talking tech billionaires, regular ass billionaires, even government officials… I’m still trying to figure out how to assassinate the president, for God’s sake! Look, the point is… we had to move onto the supernatural eventually, you know? We got two very special people who’re knowledgeable in that stuff on our side.” 

“Byron and Hattie?” 

“Yeah. They’re my best friends in the world. Well, aside from Pierce. And Dasha… maybe Rosé-”

“Alright. So what you’re saying is that this feels natural?” 

“Right. And I refuse to give up and give in to something like demons.” 

“... Is that so? Your passion is beautiful, but I unfortunately cannot allow for your plans to follow through. Unless, again, you want to go through the process naturally via summoning a demon who could turn you into one. I cannot do such things, but I know someone who can.” 

“... You do?” 

“Of course I do. But I have some conditions.” 

“Shoot.” 

“I would like to further be in contact with you. I would also like for you to stop talking to Aleister Chamber. He’s not a good man.” 

“And? Neither am I.” 

“You know what I mean.” Pierre pursed his lips. 

“Yeah, but… Hang on. What else?” 

“Right. This is not necessary, but it would benefit you if we were close.” 

“Hm?” 

“By entwining ourselves in a mutual contract, I can secure you a spot as a demon,” Claude explained. 

“What? ‘Mutual’ contract? What’s that entail?” 

“Well… think of it as a marriage. Only it’s not a marriage. By wearing rings that connect us to one another, we are agreeing to be together for the rest of your natural life and you will be my eternally loyal partner. In exchange, I am to help you with anything you desire.” Silence. 

Claude continued to explain, “We’d each wear a ring that embeds into our body. They will replace the typical seal. And this contract would end and or complete once you die or become a demon. You’d just have to wait either way.” As they danced, Pierre thought, dancing close to Claude. 

“... Can you give me some time? I promise I won’t do anything just yet, but let me think about it.” 

“How can I trust your word?”

“Well-” 

“There you are! I was looking for you,” Aleister said as he dragged Pierre away from Claude, spinning him around.

“Stop it!” Pierre said as he spun. Claude simply sighed. That was when Sebastian approached him. 

“Care for a dance?” Sebastian asked with a wink. Claude rolled his eyes and took his hand. As the two demons danced, they immediately found more supernatural beings among them. 

“Those two over there are reapers,” Sebastian pointed out, “Behind you- oh, they’re coming your way.” Indeed, two reapers were present; one wore a suit encrusted with diamond, the other wore a vibrant ensemble. 

“How could a reaper even afford a tacky suit like that, hmm?” Sebastian asked Claude.

“... They seem like they’re a couple,” Claude replied after a few seconds. The one with the diamond suit had tanned yet rosy skin that stuck out against his dark blond quiff and red mask. The other had brown curly hair with the ends dyed blue and a slight scruff on his chin. He wore a blue mask. 

“You think so?” Sebastian asked. Claude simply nodded. As Sebastian looked around, he frowned. 

“Ah- You know that reaper that Grell likes? Similar to you but has brown hair that’s shorter?” he asked. 

“I suppose. Is he here?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Any others?” 

“Well… I see this one man with the worst hair imaginable… one with scruffy hair. That’s it, though. Yes, definitely so.” As they turned around, Claude caught sight of the “worst hair imaginable”. 

“That’s not terrible,” Claude said, “His mask is odd. That’s what they call a zanni mask, correct?” 

“Indeed. But how can you say that his hair is not terrible? It’s bright brassy blonde over a black undercut that needs a trim. It’s hideous.” 

“Again, it could be worse. And are you really the one to talk about bad hair?” 

“...Excuse me?!” 

“You should keep your hair out of your face.” Sebastian laughed in Claude’s face. 

“You’re not my father, first and foremost. With that said, this is the modern era.”

“Exactly. That haircut went out of style ten years ago.” Sebastian huffed. 

“Well… you look like a dad.”

“Pardon?” 

“I don’t know, shut up!” 

“Ah. I’ve hurt your ego.” 

“Not really. Well, only a little... Seriously? Ten years ago?” 

“You’ve had that same haircut for ten years. You should definitely change it.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. He certainly wasn’t going to take fashion advice from Claude of all demons. 

“So. Luck with Pierre?” Sebastian changed the subject. 

“I believe so. But Aleister whisked him away from me.” 

“Ohhh,” Sebastian replied, “Maybe Aleister is manipulating Pierre. Will you allow me to investigate?” 

“Do your best. But don’t touch Pierre or try to seduce him.” 

“Aww, so no fun?” 

“Get to it,” Claude said as he spun Sebastian away from him as the rest of the dancers changed partners. Sebastian had to be honest with himself; he was absolutely suspicious of Claude. Surely the man wasn’t developing feelings for this human. So why use him like that? 

Why convince him to form a mutual contract? 

“A mutual contract,” Sebastian murmured to himself, “It just doesn’t make sense.” 

“What, handsome?” the young woman he was dancing with asked. 

“Oh, forgive me,” he said, “I’m musing to myself about a novel I’m writing.” 

“Oh, so you’re a writer! I’m a writer myself,” she giggled. Sebastian forced a soft smile onto his face as the dance continued. 

“Ah- Hey,” Byron frowned as he was forced to change partners, leaving Hattie to end up with none other than Sebastian Michaelis. 

The two stared at one another, but Hattie’s eyes were wide and alert. 

“You’re that demon-” 

“Correct,” Sebastian said with smirk. 

“... What are you doing here? Is that other demon with you?” 

“Indeed. Can you tell me about Pierre and Aleister?”

“... Shit,” she groaned, “You figured out they were working together.” 

“Yes? That was obvious?” Hattie sighed. 

“Okay. I contacted Aleister a while ago. Well, he contacted me. He said he loved my book and would love to help work on a second book with me. I agreed, and so he and Pierre came into contact with each other. I knew he was involved with allegations, but as someone who deals with true crime, I treat those as they are: allegations.” 

“Do you believe them?” 

“Do I think those allegations are true? Personally, it’s hard to say.” 

“You’re not under surveillance. You can tell me.” 

“... You take me for a fool.” 

“Perhaps,” Sebastian spoke rather cheerfully, “I cannot help but treat you as one.” 

“Excuse me?!” 

“You’re a demonologist. I find the study so odd.” Hattie looked down as they danced.

“...Sebastian Michaelis,” Hattie said at last, looking back up with a smile. Sebastian’s eyes widened.

“You’re really named after a demonologist and you have the nerve to talk to me like that?” Hattie laughed, “Honestly, you demons are the fools.” Sebastian frowned. 

“I’m sure you heard my young master utter my name.” 

“Mhm,” Hattie slowly nodded, that smug look still on her face. 

“Right. Well, Miss Dawson, I’ll say this; if I share a name, that’s coincidental. My young master knows nothing about your silly study.” 

“Is it silly because you’re the one being studied?” Hattie asked, tilting her head to the side, “Aww, does that make you feel bad? Does that hurt your little demon feelings? I’m so terribly sorry, Mr. Michaelis! Is there anything I can do to make it feel better? Should I give up my entire livelihood? Should we all bow down to the mighty demons because my work embarrasses you? Poor baby!” 

“This is going nowhere,” Sebastian huffed, quickly shaking his head, “I just need to know if Aleister influenced Pierre.” 

“How about this: Byron, Aleister, and I all influenced Pierre. Luna influenced Pierre, Rosé influenced Pierre… we all influenced Pierre. We’re a team. Pierre is our leader, but we work as a team.”

“Oh, really?” Sebastian laughed despite being miffed, “So was any of this even Pierre’s idea to begin with?” 

“He’s the one who always executes our plans.” 

“...Which means?” Hattie laughed at him. 

“Oh, you really are stupid.”

“I’m not stupid. Just explain, please.” 

“Even if we give him ideas, he’s the one who decides what we do.” 

“Sounds cult-like to me.” 

“You don’t even know what being part of a cult truly means, do you?” 

“Like I said, Miss Dawson: ‘cult-like’. I didn’t say that you were part of an actual cult.” 

“Oh, whatever. Demons like you are so dull. What about that friend of yours?” 

“I shouldn’t tell you about him since you’ll be seeing him a lot more.” 

“... You don’t mean-” 

“Read my lips, Miss Dawson: Mutual contract.” 

“... No. No, that would begin to wear down on Pierre.” 

“Uh-huh!” 

“That… The demon would slowly feed on his soul bit by bit to satiate himself in between contracts. Wherever that demon goes, Pierre has to follow.” 

“Absolutely.”

“Pierre doesn’t know what he’s getting into,” Hattie said right before trying to leave the dance floor, but Sebastian pulled her closer. 

“Forgive me, but didn’t you just say that you follow Pierre’s orders? You shouldn’t try to stop him. You know. If you’re a good subordinate, that is.” 

“No! Let go of me.” 

“Don’t fuss. It’s not going to seriously hurt Pierre. After all, he wants to be a demon, right? And isn’t that what you want for him?” 

“You don’t understand. Luna and Barbie want to as well.” 

“Oh, I understand that. That’s the exact reason why Claude is offering Pierre that once-in-a-lifetime deal!”

“You… Let go of me!” Hattie tried to pull away from Sebastian, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“If you raise your voice, I’m going to make sure you’ll never do so again. Honestly, you demonologists are so damn annoying.” 

“I told you to let go!” Hattie raised her voice nonetheless. Right when Sebastian’s eyes began to glow, a hand moved in-between them. 

“... Excuse me,” Byron said, pushing Sebastian away with more force than he meant to, “You’re making my wife uncomfortable.” Sebastian glanced around. It seemed that no one heard them over the loud and live classical music currently being played. Well, no human did. Every supernatural being in the room glared at the three. 

“... Of course a psychic decided to marry a demonologist.” 

“Oh, yeah. Totally. The classic duo,” Byron replied sarcastically while rolling his eyes. He sighed exasperatedly before looking at Sebastian. 

“Just leave us alone, dude. I don’t care if your friend gets involved, but your vibes are rancid. Ran. Cid. Get out of my sight.” 

“... Do you really think your immature insults are intimidating?” Sebastian asked with a smirk. Byron’s green eyes stared intensely into Sebastian’s gaze.

“I don’t care if you’re intimidated. Just don’t lay another finger on Hattie or I’ll repeat what happened a couple nights ago. Although this time, I’ll make sure to put more holes in you than you could even count.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just being protective.”

“...Yes? That’s? What?” Byron tilted his head to the side, “You’re really starting to piss me off. Get out of my sight. Now.” 

“Fine. See you both soon,” Sebastian said as he walked over to Ciel, who had stopped dancing long ago. This was when he realized that Claude had decided to dance with Alois, something he hadn’t expected from Claude. 

“You’re making a fool of yourself,” Ciel said as he shook his head. 

“Oh? You think so?” 

“Absolutely. You’re making enemies when you should be making friends.” 

“...I apologize. I’m glad that you’re taking to my lessons, though.”

“Ah-” Damn. Sebastian was right; that was definitely something the demon told Ciel as a way to soothe his temper tantrums.

“I can’t help myself, though,” Sebastian explained, “That woman is annoying and that man that constantly follows her around is nothing but a scared little dog.” 

“I’d agree, but the woman is actually someone key to us. Or at least potentially could be key to helping me.” 

“... You think so?” Sebastian managed to ask without complaining. 

“I think so. We’d need to talk more with her, so don’t touch her or annoy her. Don’t even anger her on purpose. That’s an order.”

“... Yes, my lord,” Sebastian spoke with a slight bow, “I believe it’s time I talk to Pierre Labelle myself. Do you mind?” 

“Before you do that… do you mind if we talk?” Hannah asked from behind Sebastian. Sebastian turned around to look her over. 

“... What is it?” He asked. 

“I fear that Claude is doing all of this to rid himself of Alois.” 

“Why would he want to get rid of Alois?” Ciel asked with a slight smugness. Hannah sighed softly before looking up at Sebastian.

“... It’s entirely possible, but I’ll ask him about it. Will that ease your worries?” Hannah nodded and Sebastian let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you,” she said before she began to walk away. Sebastian said nothing more, walking off to find Pierre. 

“Ah, my little robin. Let us fly away to our coop,” Aleister said with a dreamy sigh. 

“... You want to go upstairs? Now?” 

“Mhm! I’m sure you’re tired of dancing.” 

“I mean… I’m not dizzy, but-” 

“Pardon me, Mr. Vulture, but may I please have this dance?” Sebastian quipped as he pulled Pierre far, far away from Chamber.

“What the hell?!” Pierre asked as Sebastian twirled him around, “Hey! What-” 

“You must be tired of dealing with that vulgar man. You don’t mind if a raven sweeps you off your feet, do you?”

“Ugh. You too?” 

“Apologies,” Sebastian said with a smug smile, “Let’s talk business. You like to talk business, don’t you, Mr. Labelle?” 

“... Indeed,” Pierre huffed, “I’m sure you’re with Hell’s Diplomat.” 

“...What?” Sebastian asked with surprise, “Did he tell you that?” 

“Yep! Tell me… is he handsome? What’s his name?” 

“... His name is Claude Faustus and he is definitely less handsome than me.” 

“Says you,” Pierre huffed. 

“Well, I suppose that’s for you to decide. Unfortunately, Claude told me not to touch you. Not that I would want to, frankly, but it’s odd how territorial he is. Don’t you think that’s odd?” 

“Territorial? Excuse me?” 

“Oh. Let me rephrase that: Claude is not being clingy or obsessive, but he is only making sure that I don’t ruin his chances with you.” 

“...Aww. That’s kind of sweet. You really think he cares that much?” 

“I mean… the man asked you to practically marry him, so-” 

“Sure. But that’s definitely all to his advantage, isn’t it?” Pierre asked. Sebastian slowly smiled. 

“You even caught him keeping information from you! Maybe you two are meant to be. Tell me, are you passionate about almost everything you do?” Pierre sighed.

“He keeps saying I’m full of passion, but I honestly just do what I want when I want. Is that passion?” 

“Oh, most definitely. Selfish passion is something Claude is very obsessed with.” 

“... Huh,” Pierre said, “Well, what do you think?” 

“Are you asking me to make a decision? Are you asking if you should form a mutual contract with Claude Faustus, Hell’s Diplomat? Claude Faustus, the Gluttonous Spider? Claude Faustus, the-” 

“Claude Faustus,” Pierre replied, “Claude Faustus. That has a nice ring to it.” 

“...Pierre Labelle and Claude Faustus.” Sebastian and Pierre danced in silence.

“Yeah,” Pierre said at last, “Or Claude Faustus and Pierre Labelle. Well, that sounds a little less...catchy? Nice?” 

“In my opinion, I wouldn’t go for the mutual contract. However, given your… already odd relationship, that might work out in the end.” 

“You think so?” 

“I _think_ so.”

“Right,” Pierre replied. 

“Now… shall we dance?” Sebastian asked. 

“What? I’m already- Hey, hey, hey!” Pierre raised his voice as Sebastian spun him around over and over again. As Sebastian led him around the dancefloor, Aleister watched with a frown. That was supposed to be him, wasn’t it? Who even was this handsome stranger? 

“Hey, please stop,” Pierre murmured to Sebastian, “I’m starting to get dizzy.” 

“Really? Because I’m just getting started,” Sebastian said with a smugness unparalleled to the smugness that Hattie showed him earlier. However, he had decided to move away from the dance floor and found himself near the buffet-style food tables. 

“What are you doing?” Pierre asked, holding his head as his nails ever so slightly dug in. 

“I’m just picking out some food for you to recover with. Aren’t you hungry?” 

“... Yeah, I am,” Pierre said with a nod, “I appreciate it, but did you really have to do all that?” 

“To get you away from the crowd? Absolutely.” Pierre rolled his eyes as Sebastian led him out of the ballroom with a plate in his hand. 

“Where would the stairs be?” Sebastian murmured to himself. 

“Oh, they’re, uh… over there,” Pierre pointed at them, realizing that they were in a rather unintuitive spot.

“Thank you,” Sebastian quickly replied as he ushered Pierre upstairs, “I had to use your… vertigo to my advantage.” 

“Sure, sure, but why take me upstairs? I thought you said Claude didn’t want you to touch me.” 

“Oh, I’ll do no such thing. See, that’s another part of my plan, but you’ll learn why later.” Pierre simply groaned, not wanting to think too much at that moment. Soon, Sebastian had brought Pierre to the guest room he was currently staying in. Pierre took his mask off to eat. 

“So, I heard that your big mansion up north finally sold,” Sebastian said as he sat next to Pierre on the bed, “For ten million, correct?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m very happy about it, but I thought it was gonna sell for eleven.”

“Right. Well, congrats nonetheless. But wasn’t that manor hard to sell?” 

“Not really. I have a lot of shitty memories from growing up there. It’s a family plot, sure, but I don’t give a damn about it. I’m glad it’s out of my hands now.” 

“Oh,” was all Sebastian said in reply. They sat ther for a few moments in complete silence while Pierre ate some food. 

“Thanks for grabbing some food. You want some?” 

“Oh, no thanks. Demons don’t eat.” 

“Right. I think I definitely saw Claude sampling some of the food, though.” 

“Oh, well, he’s a demon of gluttony. He’s actually able to stomach human food. The rest of us ‘suffer’. I don’t like the taste, anyways. It all tastes bland or disgusting. Even spicy food.” 

“That’s a shame,” Pierre said, “Oh well.” 

“Well, like I said. I don’t mind. Demons only need souls to survive.” 

“...Right. So about what I said earlier. There’s more to that, isn’t there?” 

“Oh, the mutual contract. Right. Well, if you must know, Claude will slowly feed off of your soul here and there in between other contracts. It really won’t affect you, but you’ll feel fatigued and lethargic.” 

“... Huh. Good to know. That’s not as terrible as I thought.” 

“Ah. You’re that type of person.” 

“Huh?” 

“Well, you’re not exactly a pessimist, but you’re not exactly an optimist. But you’re not quite a realist, either. You’re a cynic.” 

“No, I’m a realist,” Pierre shook his head, “Hattie told me all about demons.” Sebastian chuckled at this point. 

“I wouldn’t exactly trust a demonologist to talk about how demons work. I would trust the demons that know exactly how they themselves work. Like Claude.” 

“Sure, but Claude left out key information about the mutual contract.” 

“... Well. Either way, that’s just my philosophy. But as a cynic, you expect the worst from others because you, too, are not the best.”

“No one’s the best. It’s just that the world is… cruel and unforgiving. I’m just not the person to make it better, though.”

“There. Do you see what I’m saying?” 

“Yeah, but look at who’s contributing to it. It’s true. Again, I’m not the person to make the world perfect or even just a little nicer. I’m trying to do what I can, but I just… It’s hard. I already struggle as it is to just be normal.” 

“There’s no such thing as normal.” 

“Sure, but I’m far from fitting society’s norm, you know.” 

“... Fair,” Sebastian said, “Do you need help getting out of that dress?” 

“Oh! Yeah, that’d be nice.” The two stood up and Sebastian got to work. Right as he was finished, Aleister Chamber dramatically burst into the room. He gasped, but Pierre only groaned. 

“Pardon me. Miss… Uh… I’m sorry, you never told me your name,” Sebastian chuckled softly before looking at Aleister, “But your little Robin needed help getting out of her dress.”

“I… Thank you, but your service is no longer needed,” Aleister spoke the exact way a Shakespearean actor would. 

“Of course. Good night,” Sebastian replied with a half-bow before he left the room. However, he glanced at Pierre one last time before he moved to the stairs. 

“Honestly, the nerve of that man!” Aleister huffed as Pierre removed the rest of his clothes. Aleister then turned to look Pierre over. 

“...Pierre,” Aleister said, blush overcoming his face as he took in Pierre’s nude form. 

“Relax. I don’t care.” 

“Yes, but… uh…” Pierre sighed. 

“Do you want to fuck?” 

“Ah! Must you really use such harsh words for an act as lovely as making love?” 

“... Yeah. Again. Do you want to-” 

“Yes,” Aleister quickly replied. Immediately, Aleister stripped himself of that elaborate ensemble while Pierre slipped into bed. What neither of them realized was that a dark shadow lurked in the corner of the room, watching over them. 


	6. How to Crash a Ball In One Hour or Less

Claude hadn’t taken his eyes away from Pierre and Aleister during that intimate moment. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look away despite that being all he wanted to do. As the two humans finished making love, Claude had had enough; it was time for Pierre to make a decision. Slowly, the demon made himself visible to both humans, not caring if he’d freak Aleister out. If anything, that’d work to his benefit. 

Pierre laid there as Aleister stood up and walked to the on-suite bathroom. He glanced at the darkest corner of the bedroom to find glowing eyes staring back at him. 

“...I’ve made my decision,” Pierre told the demon, “I’ll form a mutual contract with you.” Though Pierre was unable to see it, a smirk found its way onto Claude’s face before immediately disappearing.

“Understood,” he replied as his whole human form became completely visible. Neither of them took much time to address the nudity aside from Pierre managing to grab underwear, furry slides, and a robe. Proper clothing would have to wait. 

“Ahh, that was rather-” Aleister said as he walked out of the bathroom, but could not say another word as he saw Pierre and Claude prepare to leave. He stood there in shock, his throat dry. 

“... I’ll call you. Sometime,” Pierre spoke very vaguely before leaving with Claude. Aleister didn’t move even after the two left. 

Looking back at the night, that man Pierre was with looked an awful lot like the man that was supposedly taking care of his third cousin. Trancy or something? In fact… hadn’t Trancy been at the party? 

What a small world. 

“Where are we going?” Pierre asked. 

“Just drive,” Claude ordered, tossing his own car keys to him. 

“... Alright,” Pierre said with a nod. As they managed to avoid the party, Pierre tried asking Claude some questions, but he shot them down each time. 

“Alright,” Claude sighed as soon as they were in his car, “What do you want to know now?” 

“Oh, I thought you were being a douche,” Pierre said while starting the car. 

“... I was trying to sneak us out of there without bringing attention to us. And it worked,” Claude said as he replaced his mask with his glasses. Pierre stared at him, smiling softly. 

“... Drive. Please.” 

“Oh! Right!” Pierre drove off at a rather quick speed. 

“... So what were you asking about?” 

“I was trying to get your attention because I wanted to know why you didn’t tell me you’d be feeding off of my soul during the contract.” 

“... Okay, I know you didn’t ask that earlier.” 

“So you were paying attention?” 

“Let’s stay on one topic at a time. I didn’t tell you that because it didn’t matter.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that if our goal is to make you a demon before your natural death, then that part of the contract doesn’t matter. Turn left at the light.” 

“... Our goal,” Pierre said with a soft smile. 

“Yes? If we’re forming a mutual contract, it would be our goal.” 

“That part I get. What I’m not understanding is how you benefit from this.” 

“By doing this, I’m stopping an outright war from occurring. If you successfully entered Hell and became a demon that way, then all of the Princes of Hell would declare a war against humans. I would know, after all; I’m related to Beelzebub.” 

“Right,” Pierre said, slightly smiling while shaking his head. 

“... You don’t believe me?” 

“Well, how related are you, first and foremost?” 

“Well, we’re… distantly related. But we’ve talked plenty.” 

“Right. And he specifically told you all of that?” 

“Pierre. You should understand what I’m trying to say.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m not a diplomat, so I obviously don’t get it. But I’ll go along.” 

“Especially if it benefits you?” 

“... You know, you sure seem to love digging at people. Has anyone dug at you? Hmm?” 

“Many, many times. I don’t think about it much, though,” Claude replied. Pierre rolled his eyes and focused on driving. The farther he drove, the more trees popped up around him. 

“Turn right at the road up here, then turn left,” Claude ordered. Pierre followed directions.

“So what were you actually trying to ask me about?” Claude asked. 

“Yeah. That. Listen, I was just trying to get to know you better. You know. Since we’re getting married.” Claude glared at him. 

“This is a mutual contract, not marriage.” 

“I don’t know, man. How would you define a marriage?” 

“It’s an ‘official’ union between at least two humans that are in a romantic relationship. You will be by my side for the rest of your natural life, sure, but there’s no need for intimacy. It is similar, but it’s also quite different.” 

“Aww, that’s too bad,” Pierre pouted, “I was definitely looking forward to having my way with you.” Claude stared at him, tilting his head to the side. 

“Oh, we could arrange that if that’s what you desire. But I will certainly be having my way with you.” This made Pierre laugh, but it was a genuinely joyful laugh. It was a laugh that he hadn’t let out in a long time. 

“Sure! I don’t mind either way. You know… you’re very handsome for a demon. I’d say you’re much more handsome than that friend of yours. Although… he’s quite handsome, too. Are all demons good-looking?” 

“Oh, not at all,” Claude quickly replied, “I’m aware that I’m attractive, though.” 

“Ah- Take the compliment!” 

“I did. I’m just already aware of my good qualities. That’s all you’ll be getting, though. That and the obvious perks of being a demon’s ally.” 

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, dearest.” 

“... Park.” 

“Now?” 

“Now.” Pierre came to a slow and stopped the car, parking it. Claude stared at him and Pierre stood back. Right as Pierre was about to lean over, Claude stepped out of the car. 

“Ah- Shit, it’s cold,” Pierre shivered as he too stepped out, trying to play off being accidentally denied. Perhaps Claude wasn’t in the mood as much as he was. Suddenly, a coat was thrown his way. 

“Will that work?” Claude asked him as Pierre examined his coat. 

“... How long’s the walk?” 

“Oh, not that far,” Claude replied. Immediately, he received his coat back. 

“Keep it, then. I’ll be fine,” Pierre said as he joined his side. The demon and the human walked uphill, quickly able to view their destination. 

Pierre gasped, “This is where you wanted to take me?” The destination had been a dark cave in the back of a forest. The night sky only worsened Pierre’s worry.

“Not the cave. Just this forest. Ah, here’s a good spot,” Claude spoke right before stopping. Pierre looked around. 

“Why did I agree to just follow your directions?” He asked aloud, “I mean, I’m only in a robe.” 

“Well, I offered you my coat.” 

Pierre rolled his eyes, “I can tell from looking at you that you’re at least a size smaller than me.” 

“At least? But I’m much taller than you.” 

“Alright, whatever. I’d like to get this done and over with, if you don’t mind.” 

“Of course. After all, we certainly can’t have you out here in the cold, now can we?”

“Ha ha. I’m being serious.” 

“I am, too.” That caught Pierre’s attention. He really thought they were just having some back and forth banter without either of them caring too much about the other. But Claude didn’t actually care that Pierre was getting cold, right? 

“Actually… you’re probably right. Just wrap it around your shoulders for now,” Claude said while taking off his jacket and placing it around Pierre’s shoulders, having to lean down in order to do so.

“Now then,” Claude stood up straight, “Let’s begin.” 

\------------------------------------

“Sebastian,” Ciel said, “Isn’t it odd that Claude has been gone this long? And there’s no sight of Labelle, either.” Sebastian smiled at him. 

“I don’t find it odd at all,” he replied.

“And why’s that?”

“Well… I wanted to leave it as a surprise, but-“ 

“Ooh, do tell,” Alois said rather sarcastically. Sebastian huffed, not saying a word to the boy. 

“It can wait,” Ciel said with a nod. Alois pouted and crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall. 

“I miss Claude. Why’d he leave, anyways?” Sebastian nor Ciel replied to that question. Instead, they looked out into the crowd, finding Aleister with a dark expression on his face.

“What’s he doing?” Ciel asked. 

“No clue,” Sebastian replied in a low voice. As Aleister reached out for a young woman, a loud noise rang throughout the entire manor. Everyone immediately looked over at the source of the sound; the Serpents had gathered before them all, but Byron was front and center. 

“If I may have your attention,” he said with a coy smile, “But if Aleister Chamber could step forward, that’d be very appreciated.” He pointed a pistol at the crowd, which got a few loud gasps out of them. Aleister quickly came forward. 

“Is this about Pierre?” he asked. 

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Byron spoke while two low-rank members grabbed Aleister and dragged him to the rest of the Serpents. 

“You see… We have orders from him to end this party immediately. Sooo… if you please?” Byron said while shooing off the guests with his free hand. Panic pursued and Pierce could only sigh. 

“Hey, did you have to do that?” Pierce asked, “All Pierre wanted was for Aleister to end it himself.”

“Yeah? Well, since he’s not here, I’m gonna call the shots. Got it?” 

“Hey, you don’t gotta be a dick-” 

“I’m not being a dick,” Byron huffed before immediately turning to look at Sebastian, Ciel, and Alois. 

“Excuse me, sir! Why should we follow your orders-” 

“Alois. Enough. Let’s go,” Ciel quickly shut him down, “You’re coming with, Sebastian.” Sebastian was staring down Byron, which only made him walk up to the Serpents. Byron smirked as low-ranking Serpents pointed guns at Sebastian. 

“Ooh, this is gonna be good,” Alois whispered to Ciel, who only rolled his eyes.

“Can you give us at least some explanation of why the party has to end so soon?” Sebastian asked. 

“Oh… Now you sound familiar. My world’s biggest fan, right?” 

“I wouldn’t say that I’m your biggest fan, especially since you were oh-so-rude to me when I was dancing with your wife.” 

“Well, you were being rude to her,” Byron crossed his arms, “Anyways, here’s your explanation: I’m following Pierre’s orders. Got it?” 

“What exactly did he say?” 

“He told me to end the party and make sure we keep an eye on Aleister.” 

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Now, I would recommend that you’d leave. Now.” 

“Hold on a second,” Pierce said, interrupting the conversation, “What’s your real reason for stepping up to the most commercially viable gang in the country? You do realize that we’re probably able to just shoot you, right? Well, by that I just mean that Byron’s able to shoot you and get away with it.” 

“Hey.” 

“It’s the truth! I’m not gonna do shit to a civilian. Never have, never will.” 

“And that’s exactly why I feel like I can approach you,” Sebastian said innocently.

“... What’s your name?” Pierce asked, looking him over. 

“You may call me Sebastian Michaelis.” 

“Alright, then. Sebastian… It’s best that you leave with those kids over there. It’s gonna get ugly. They certainly don’t need to see this.” 

“They’ve seen far, far worse. Trust me.”

“Well, you just don’t have business being here,” Byron said as he pressed the pistol’s muzzle into Sebatian’s forehead. 

“Oh! You think I’m scared of a little pistol, Byron?” Sebastian laughed softly, tilting his head to the left. 

“Sebastian, let’s-” Ciel started to place an order, but he immediately stopped and gasped at what Byron had just pulled out. 

“So cool!” Alois whispered as Byron readied a shotgun of high quality. In fact…

“A military weapon? Really? I didn’t think you of all people could actually acquire a weapon like that,” Sebastian quipped. Byron smirked and handed his pistol to Pierce. 

“This isn’t military-grade. That’s an insult,” Byron said, “Military-grade implies that it just gets the job done. But this thing does more than that. It’s all metal aside from the comfortable grip. I can comfortably blow your head off with ease and precision.” He then pressed the shotgun’s muzzle to Seb’s forehead. 

“Now tell me: Are you scared?”

“I’m scared that you’ll make a grave mistake,” Sebastian replied with little kindness, “Remember, I can’t die. You’ll blow my head off and it will grow right back.” 

“... This dude’s wild,” Pierce huffed, “Let’s ignore him, Byron. We gotta focus on Aleister.” Byron stared at Sebastian, deciding what to do. Eventually, he pulled away. Suddenly, the gun was pointed at another. 

“You guys. Out. Now,” he said as he pointed it at a group of six people. 

“Ah! We’re just talking,” Miss Grell Sutcliff explained as she bowed, “Besides, you’re so rude and crass for ending such a marvelous ball this early. It’s only eleven!” 

“It’s eleven-thirty,” William T. Spears said with a nod, “We’re lingering for… well-” 

“I don’t care. Get out,” Byron ordered. 

“Hey, man. We get it. You’re part of this big criminal empire. But do you really have to crash a party like this? Isn’t that kinda… shitty?” the young man with two-tone hair asked Byron. Byron glared at him before taking Sebastian as a “hostage”, pointing the gun at him. 

“Leave or he gets it!” Was his best threat, but he was only greeted with laughs. 

“Oh! Uh… I mean…” the young man said, clearing his throat, “Oh no! Don’t do that!” 

“Not to my Bassy! Don’t hurt my Bassy, who definitely isn’t a demon who can handle himself and kill all of you within minutes!” 

“I appreciate the compliment, Grell. However,” Sebastian said right before he elbowed Byron hard, sending him into Hattie, “It is wise if you all leave. I doubt anyone’s going to die right now.” 

“... We’re here for Aleister,” William said, “We don’t expect any of the Serpents to kill, but Aleister-” 

“Ah, shit. He’s gone,” Pierce sighed, “You two! What happ- Uhhhh.” Those two guards had disappeared. 

“That’s not good,” Dasha said, “That’s very, very bad.” 

“I’m off, then. Enjoy the rest of your night,” Will said to the other reapers before leaving the ballroom. 

“This is ridiculous,” Ciel shook his head, “Sebastian, let’s go. That’s an order.” Sebastian sighed.

“Very well,” Sebastian said as he just walked away from the Serpents. The moment the two stepped out of the room with Alois, Byron fired a shot at Sebastian.

“Ah- Aw, you grazed my ear,” Sebastian said with a fake frown, but couldn’t hold it for that long. He turned back to look at an enraged Byron.

“You distracted me. Was that your plan all along?” 

“Oh, absolutely not,” Sebastian replied, waving him off absentmindedly. Byron shot his hand, forming a hole big enough to just see through. 

“Ahh… You’re very trigger-happy, aren’t you? That’s no good for a hitman.” 

“Depends on the job,” Byron said while shaking his head, “Now we got beef. I’m gonna be going after you and maybe even that kid of yours. Understood?” Ciel looked at Sebastian and took off his eyepatch. 

“Sebastian: neutralize him. Make sure he stops bugging us.” Sebastian grinned. 

“Yes, my lord,” he said as he took off his left hand’s glove, revealing the contract seal. Ciel’s exposed eye and the seal glowed. Byron started to back away, but by the time he actually took more than five steps, he was sent flying to a wall by Sebastian’s powerful kick. Immediately, Hattie rushed over. 

“It’s imperative that you stay out of the way, Miss Dawson,” Sebastian said as he cracked his knuckles. Hattie looked over at Ciel and Alois, who were watching. 

“Phantomhive! Please,” Hattie said as she stepped in front of the two boys but behind Sebastian, “Let’s talk this through.” 

“... Sebastian. Stop, but just until I tell you to start again.” Sebastian followed orders and Byron caught his breath. 

“What can you offer me?” Ciel asked Hattie. 

“I know why you’re here,” she said, “Well, why I think you’re here. You’re here to avenge your parents.” Ciel stared at her.

“...Yes,” he said with a quick nod. 

“I’ve been doing my own research. It’s such an odd case, and I figured that the cult involved is currently-” 

“How do you know a cult was involved?!” Ciel asked, raising his voice, “That’s information that only I-” 

“Well, it was revealed that a cult had started fires around that area before and after the Phantomhive manor burned to the ground. It’s assumed that your family was their target all along, though.”

“...So you have evidence that can help me. Right?” 

“Right. As well as information about which cults it could be.” 

“...Alright, I’m fine with that. We’ll talk soon, then. But I assume you don't want Byron to be harmed in exchange?” 

“Correct.” 

“...Sebastian. Pull back. Leave him be.” Sebastian sighed. 

“Yes, my lord,” he said as he trudged back over, “It’s too bad. I imagine that his screams of terror would’ve been cute-sounding.” Hattie said nothing to that, only staring at Ciel. 

“We should meet somewhere private,” Ciel said once his demon was back at his side. 

“The Serpents are currently in possession of that tourist-y looking house that’s supposedly haunted. Will that work?”

“Oh, that’s great, actually,” Ciel said with a nod, “I’ll arrive when I want to talk.” 

“Perfect,” Hattie replied, “Thank you, Phantomhive.” 

“Call me Ciel,” he said, putting his hand out, “And I will thank you when I receive the information I need.” 

“Got it.” Ciel, Sebastian, and Alois finally left.

“Hey. What are you guys doing? Go look for Aleister, please,” Pierce ordered the low-rank Serpents. Immediately, the thirteen or so members ran off. Pierce approached Byron and Hattie, helping Byron up. 

“God,” Byron said while shaking his head, “Fuck that guy.” 

“He’s a demon,” Hattie shook her head as well, “He was only following orders.” 

“Damn. That kid’s powerful, then,” Pierce added. 

“Agreed,” said Hattie, turning around to look at Byron, “Are you okay, hon?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just seemed like that guy wanted to murder me.”

“Didn’t you want to murder him?” Pierce asked, a look of concern on his face. 

Byron posed the question, “Can you murder someone that can’t die?” Both Hattie and Pierce stared at him with serious faces. 

“Yes,” they both said. 

“... Huh. Well, it’d be more like attempted murder, though, right?” 

“That’s not the issue. How the hell did we let Aleister get away?” Hattie asked.

“Well, why don’t you ask Pierce?” Byron asked, placing his hands on his hips. 

“Look. It doesn’t matter. Pierre will understand.” 

“... Yeah, he will,” Byron sighed, “But I’m still gonna find him.” He then immediately pushed past both of them. 

“Hey! It doesn’t matter,” Pierce said, “Don’t get yourself killed for this one dude.” Byron laughed. 

“I’m not gonna get killed,” Byron said as he started walking backwards to look at Pierce and Hattie, “I’ll be good. It’d be me against him!” Hattie sighed once he was upstairs. 

“We should start packing it up. Byron will bring the grunts down,” she told Pierce.

“Agreed,” he said, “Hey, did Pierre actually put Byron in charge?” 

“No,” she laughed softly, “But you know Byron. And he’s been high-strung since Sebastian bothered me while dancing.” 

“Oh,” Pierce said with a frown, “Yeah, I know Byron alright. But still…” 

“What?” 

“Something’s just up. I don’t know. Aleister’s the type to stand out. How’d he escape?”

“Don’t know,” Hattie shrugged. 

“Well, whatever it is, I’m gonna look for him, too,” Rosé said while walking over to them, “You guys down?” 

“No way. I’ll stay here,” Pierce shook his head, “It’s not necessary to look for him. After all, what’s he even got for protection? That one fancy gun?” 

“Oh, yeah. He has that,” Hattie said while in thought, “Oh! I’m not going to look either, though. I’ll help Jenna and Pierce.” 

“What’s the gun look like?” Rosé asked. 

“It’s very ornate. White and gold with some pink accents,” Hattie explained. 

“Got it. I’ll confiscate it if I see it. See you guys later,” Rosé said before walking upstairs to join Byron. The moment she was on the second floor, every movement of hers became silent. Byron was up ahead, focused on listening to a conversation. She could vaguely hear two men talking, but she couldn’t make out their words at all.

“...What are they saying?” Rosé whispered to Byron, which made him yelp and drop his gun. A large clatter echoed throughout the hall. The hitman glared at her as he bent down to pick up his gun. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” He hissed. 

“You’re a big baby,” Rosé whispered, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. The conversation had ceased, which only made Byron continue to glare at her. 

“You fucked it up,” he said. 

“Me?! You’re the one who made all that noise.” 

“Well, guess who made me do all that?!” 

“Oh, grow up and take the L.” Byron’s eye twitched. 

“I-” He began to say, but Rosé shushed him. 

“Shut the hell up. Let’s just ambush them.” Byron agreed with that.

“One… two… three,” Byron whispered. On three, Byron kicked the door open with relative ease. Immediately, they both groaned. 

“Nothing. Shit,” Byron spoke at a normal volume. Indeed, the bedroom was seemingly empty. As the two looked around the expensive-looking decadent bedroom, Rosé made a discovery. 

“Isn’t this a master bedroom?” she asked Byron, “I mean, we got a master bathroom there, a walk-in closet over there…” She trailed off to meet Byron’s look. 

“I got the bathroom. Check the closet,” Byron whispered to her. Rosé agreed with that and immediately opened the closet door. 

Nothing. 

“Shit,” she whispered, but something suddenly piqued her curiosity. There was actually nothing in there except for a few empty boxes and hangers that should’ve been holding clothing. What happened to those clothes? Right as she was about to leave, Byron bumped into her. 

“There’s nothing in the bathroom. Like… Nothing-nothing,” he said, pressed up against her back. 

“Okay? There’s nothing here either, but why do you gotta be so close.” 

“...Spider.” Rosé laughed. 

“God, you’re such a baby!” she continued to laugh, “You want me to kill it for you?” 

“Please,” Byron said while pushing himself into the wall rather than continuing to push on Rosé. The woman smiled as she opened the bathroom door while Byron looked into the closet. 

“Where is it?” she asked him, but he didn’t respond. She looked around the room and saw a common spider chilling above the shower. She laughed again as she grabbed some toilet paper to squish it. Right as she was about to squish it, Byron yelped. 

“Byron,” she sighed, “Of course there’s gonna be a spider in a closet. What is it with you and bugs, huh? They’re just chilling.” He didn’t respond. She sighed, squished the spider, threw the toilet paper in the nearby trash can, and approached the closet. However, her eyes widened when she didn’t see Byron. 

“Byron?” she called out as she realized that the closet door was shut. She smirked, wondering if Byron accidentally locked himself in there. However, she got a closer look and realized that the door certainly wasn’t locked. She slowly turned the knob, but something stopped her. She looked up at the ceiling. Nothing, of course. She then took a deep breath and opened the door. She let out a sigh of relief once she saw him. He jumped at the sound alone. 

“What are you doing?” she asked him as he cowered next to the door.

“Well, I… I-” 

“What did you see this time?” 

“... Moth.”

“ _Aww._ ” 

“Stop!! Just get it. I turned the light off so it wouldn’t fly at me.” 

“... Byron, I’m not killing a moth-” 

“Just do it!!” Byron said as he cowered behind her. She sighed and looked around the walk-in closet. Again, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Byron whimpered as he tried to stop thinking about the moth. She looked back at him after looking for about 30 seconds. 

“There’s nothing there,” she sighed, “What’s with you and bugs?”

“Huh?” He asked. Suddenly, something flew out of the closet, which made Byron yelp and get down on the ground, covering his ears. Rosé looked down at him and sighed. 

“You really gotta get out, more dude,” she said. 

“Oh, you must think you’re sooo clever,” he said as he looked around the room before slowly getting back up, “I can’t help it, you know.”

“... You can definitely go out.” 

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about getting scared easily.” 

“Yeah. You get scared by bugs. Doesn’t that interfere with so much??” 

“... Well, one time I almost fucked up a job because I first set up near a spider nest. Scared the shit out of me,” Byron said before shivering, “Yeah, that was gross. Really really gross.” Rosé rolled her eyes. 

“Hey!! You know, I’m scared of people, too.” 

“Yeah. That I know. You’re paranoid.” 

“And??” Byron frowned, crossing his arms, “It’s not a bad trait.” Rosé stared at him. 

“You’re really delusional sometimes, you know that?” Byron scoffed at her. 

“Whatever,” he huffed, “Let’s continue looking.” 

“Not so fast,” a man’s voice told them. They both looked behind them to see a man with long white hair and long black nails gently handling a moth. Byron looked like he was about to faint or scream. 

“Aww, you really wanted to hurt such an interesting creature?” the man asked both of them, “This is a Death’s-head Hawkmoth. Look at its pretty wings and pattern on its back. Now tell me you still want it gone.” 

“I still definitely want it gone,” Byron said, “Who the hell are you?” 

“That’s not important,” he said as he wrapped his hand around the moth ever-so-gently, “You’re looking for Aleister, right?” 

Rosé began to say, “Yeah, how did you-” 

“Oh, I helped him leave,” he said, “You’ll never find him. Well, not on this property.” Byron grit his teeth and pointed his shotgun at him, but the man only laughed at him. 

“Oh! You definitely seem like a piece of work: a comedy!” He laughed. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Byron asked. 

“Well… those issues have to stem from somewhere, though,” the man continued his joke, “So maybe you’re more like a dramedy! Or just a tragedy.” 

“Where’s Aleister?” Rosé asked, ignoring Byron’s growing anger. 

“I cannot tell you that. That makes everything far less fun.” Rosé sighed. 

“Fine, then. We’ll find him eventually.”

“You will,” the man agreed, “...Rosé. I see a lot of potential in you.” 

“Huh?” she asked, cocking a brow.

“... I’ve met your mother, you see. I’m sure it was her because she mentioned that you were her daughter. She’s proud of you.” 

“... Yeah, she tells me that all the time,” Rosé said with a nod. The truth was that her mother wasn’t proud of the crime, but she was very proud of Rosé as a whole. Her modeling and one hit also helped. 

“Yes… She’s a very nice lady, isn’t she?” he asked her, “Well, I think she is. But that was… what, maybe eleven months ago?” 

“Probably. That’s when she visited last.” 

“Right! Ah, she’s a very, very nice lady.” 

“Did you go on a date with her or something?” Rosé asked. 

“Ah… no. I haven’t been on a date in a long while,” the man said while putting a nail to his chin. He glanced at Byron, who looked like he was about to explode. 

“Ah. That’s why I asked all of that,” he said with a nod, “It’s clear you have some serious issues with your mother.” 

“What the- What the fuck are you accusing me of that for?!” Byron asked, pointing at him, “I’ll shoot you! I’ll do it, I swear.” The man only laughed. 

“That wretched demon was right. You have a very cute voice.” 

“Excuse me?!” 

“Byron, that’s very obviously not the issue with what he just said.” 

“Right!” the man said as he handled the moth once more, “Wait, there’s an issue?” 

“How did you hear that demon talk to Hattie?” Rosé asked. 

“Ohhhhh,” was all the man said, realizing he had messed up. Then, he stood up straight and smiled, “Well, that’s all the time I have now. We’ll meet again!” He said as he opened the window to let the moth fly away. 

“Hey, what the hell was- HEY!” Byron shouted as the man jumped out the window. Rosé and Byron immediately ran over the window only to find that the man was gone. 

“... Why am I meeting so many people that I already hate?!” Byron groaned as he stepped away from the window. Rosé closed the door and stared at him as he paced around the room. 

“Well, at least we figured out what happened with Aleister,” she said. Byron sighed before flopping onto the bed. 

“Yeah… I guess that’s good,” he said as he wrote a text to Pierre. Rosé looked around the room once more. 

“How odd,” she said to herself, “That man was weird.” Did he really say all of that to rile Byron up? And since it worked… did Byron resent her? She’d have to ask him later, for Byron was already leaving the bedroom. She ran after him, following him to the ballroom. 

“Alright, time to head out,” he told Hattie and Pierce. 

“Understood,” Pierce said with a nod. The Sixth Street Serpents left the manor who now had no one living in it.

\------------------------------------

Alois went to his bedroom the moment he stepped inside of his home. Sebastian had dropped him off but at least the demon made an effort to not talk to him. Instead, Alois had talked to Ciel for the entire car ride. As Alois headed back downstairs in his pajamas, he wondered why Claude had ran off in the middle of the party. It wasn’t to investigate that gang leader, was it? 

The moment he stepped into the kitchen, Alois gasped and grinned from ear-to-ear. 

“Claude!! You’re back,” he said as he ran over and hugged Claude, who was making tea. 

“... I apologize for leaving you there,” Claude spoke in a low voice. 

“I don’t care,” Alois replied as he hugged him tighter, “I’m just glad you’re back.” Claude let out a very soft sigh as he looked into the dining room; Pierre was smiling at the sight of Alois and Claude. In fact, he looked very calm and relaxed. 

“... Alois. Do you mind if we talk in the dining room?” Claude asked him. Alois pulled away to look up at him. 

“Hmm? I don’t mind at all,” he replied. That’s when he looked into the dining room. That big smile was replaced with a cruel gaze and small frown. Pierre’s content, relaxed smile was replaced with a look of concern.

“Do not treat him like you’d treat Hannah,” Claude murmured, “He is a guest.” 

“... Fine,” Alois crossed his arms, “But I’m not gonna warm up to him immediately.” 


	7. Filling the Gaps

“Oh, wow!! So you really almost killed that dickbag of a president?” Alois asked with a big grin, “That’s so cool!” He giggled, truly impressed with Pierre’s life story. 

“Yeah, but I failed in the end. Definitely gonna try once I get Byron on board,” Pierre replied, completely relaxed and sipping on tea. 

“You should!! I wanna meet Byron and Pierce and Hattie and Rosé and-” Alois started to list off all of the main crew, but Pierre laughed joyfully.

“You’re too sweet,” Pierre replied to Alois, “I think they would all love to meet you.” 

“Really?” Alois asked, “Are you sure?” 

“Of course! They’ll probably all call you my mini-me or the next Boss once I get old,” Pierre laughed. Claude suddenly realized how similar these two were; Pierre looked like he could be Alois’ older brother or even his father. Something about that comforted him but also made his heart race. That would never be the reason why he was so interested in Pierre. It was an absolute coincidence. The thought of it being anything other than a coincidence made Claude feel ill. 

Alois stared at Pierre with a starry-eyed look, “You really think so??” 

“Well, we’ll just have to see,” Pierre said with a shiny smile. Claude admired how quickly Pierre adjusted to Alois’ personality. Was he secretly just  _ that _ good with kids?

“Okay, fine,” Alois said before yawning. 

“You should go to bed,” Claude said to him, but Alois only pouted and crossed his arms. 

“No way!! I wanna talk with Pierre some more.” 

“Aww, I appreciate that, bud, but maybe Claude’s right,” Pierre said, “How about we talk for… hmm, ten more minutes? And then we should call it night. We can always talk more tomorrow.” 

“... Fine,” Alois sighed, deciding to uncross his arms, “Can you tell me more about how exactly you became the boss?” 

“Oh, uh… sure, kiddo! When I first joined, I was… kind of a dick,” Pierre laughed, “Well. I was absolutely an entitled dick. I was a bored rich kid with a lot of anger issues. But then I got really close to the boss and I sort of became his apprentice. Then… he got into a really nasty car crash and passed away. I hadn’t even begun the grieving process before I was elected to be the next boss. Sometimes I still wonder if I’m really deserving of that title. After all, Pierce was there longer than I was. But that’s the thing about Pierce… he thinks he couldn’t handle being the boss, so he was the one who really pressed for me to become the boss. That and the old boss basically prepared me for that very moment. So… I really focused on that.” 

“...What was the old boss like?” Alois asked with a smile. Pierre blinked and thought for a moment before answering. 

“You see… the old boss was a lot like I am now. I guess that’s what happens when you become the boss of a large gang like this. I’ll say that he was definitely more strict and demanding than I am, but it made sense; that was just how he grew up and were traits that his father had. His father had been the leader before that.” 

“So why didn’t the last boss have any kids?” Alois asked. Pierre shrugged and shook his head. 

“I couldn’t tell you. Probably because he became the boss when he was only seventeen.” 

“No way!” Alois gasped. 

“Yup,” Pierre said with a nod, “I mean, I was twenty-two when I became the boss, so it wasn’t that far off.” 

“Although… seventeen year olds have brains that work much different than a twenty-two year old’s,” Claude interjected. Pierre agreed with a nod. 

“That’s true,” Pierre said, “I joined that gang when I was almost nineteen, though. I do remember that a lot of our current members joined when they were in their teens, too.” 

“So do your members have to get branded with the gang’s symbol?” Alois asked. Claude’s eyes widened and he stared at him. 

“Alois, that’s a very inappropriate-” Claude was cut off by Pierre’s laugh. 

“No, silly! Some of us get tattoos, though. In fact, a lot of the main crew have tons of tattoos. I only have a little one on my ankle, but I’ve wanted to get a sleeve for a long while.” 

“Like a full sleeve?!” Alois asked with a grin.

“Yeah. I have a couple designs in mind but I’m not sure which one to go with.” 

“Well… maybe I can help you pick one out!” Alois replied. Pierre smiled at him.

“Sure! That would be nice,” he said. 

“Okay,” Alois said before yawning, “I’m gonna head to bed now.” 

“You sure, kiddo?”

“Yep! Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?? Promise you’ll stay the night.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay the night,” Pierre said while putting his hands up. 

“Good,” Alois said with a nod, “Goodnight!” 

“Goodnight,” Pierre and Claude replied. Once Alois was upstairs, Claude let out a loud sigh. Pierre laughed softly at him.   
“How were you able to just bounce back and forth like that with him?” Claude asked, “Let alone catch his attention like that. I told him not to treat you like he treated my ex, but you really captivated him. It’s baffling, really.” 

“I know what the kids are into,” Pierre joked, “No, but I don’t know! He’s just a person. And I’m good at talking with people. So… we just talked.” Claude huffed. 

“Thank you for that very detailed answer.” 

“Hey. I just don’t know. I mean… I’ve always loved working with kids. Helping them out and stuff like that…” Pierre trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Is that it?” Claude pried for more information; just like Alois, he was incredibly curious. 

Pierre sighed, “Alright, fine. You caught me: I want to have kids of my own. Or just raise some kids that I’ll adopt. I don’t know. I just want to be a dad, you know?” He stared at Claude.

“... Is there a reason?” Claude asked, staring back at him. Pierre frowned. 

“Man, you’re good at pulling information out of me. I don’t like that at all,” Pierre sighed as he stared into his cup of tea, “But… if you must know… My parents weren’t really there for me growing up. I mean we had tons of money and I got everything I wanted, but I was barely raised by anyone. Even when I had nannies raising me and my two siblings, it was just barely. They cooked, cleaned the house, and helped with my siblings’ school stuff, but that was it. I wanna be a parent that’s actually involved in my kid’s life instead of fucking off and doing god-knows-what.” Claude nodded, but not exactly in agreement; he was just listening to what Pierre was saying. 

“... Man,” Pierre said with a soft smile, “I haven’t talked about myself like that for a long time. Sometimes I like it, sometimes I hate it.” 

“...And? Did you hate it this time?” 

Pierre shook his head, “No. It was quite enjoyable, actually. Alois is very charismatic.” 

“...You think so?” Claude asked with a slightly confused look on his face. 

“Uh, yeah? The kid’s oozing with charm. And enthusiasm. I can’t believe he was that interested in me. Usually a lot of adults act like that, but not to that extent. And it’s past two AM, too. You should let him sleep in tomorrow.” 

“I was planning on that,” Claude replied. The two sat there in silence, yet it seemed Pierre was perfectly content with that. 

“Claude?” Pierre asked the moment he actually had something to say, “I, uh…” Claude looked at him. 

“Yes?”

“I appreciate that we went through on this contract,” Pierre said, “But now I’m wondering why Aleister and Hattie agreed that it’d be better to get into Hell, especially if it’d cause a war like you said.” Claude nodded.

“To be frank, they just didn’t know any better. I don’t think they have mal-intentions,” Claude said, “However, they both should know how dangerous it is.” Pierre nodded.

“That’s the thing. Byron kept saying that it had to be beyond dangerous, but Aleister convinced me that it wouldn’t be too bad. It’d be an adventure of sorts. And… like I said… this is our shtick, to take things to the next level.”

“What about Hattie?” 

“Well… she seemed conflicted, but she really wanted some kind of weapon… a demon sword, was it?” Claude’s eyes widened once more.

“... A demon sword?” He asked. 

“A demon sword. I believed it’s called the Leviathan, but she said it weirdly.”

“The Lævateinn.” 

“Yeah! That! Hey,” Pierre said with a frown, “Don’t tell me you know about that, too.” 

“I do. But that is not an artifact in my possession. It unfortunately resides in my ex.” 

“Oooh, yeah! Tell me about her.” 

“... Only if you promise not to tell Hattie about her.” 

“You have my promise. You may do whatever to me if I tell her about her,” Pierre said, putting his right hand up. Claude stared at him with amusement and bemusement. 

“Just don’t do it,” he said while shaking his head, “Anyways… her name is Hannah Annafellows and she’s a demon of envy. We were together for a little over two hundred years before she completely betrayed me.”

“How did she betray you?” 

“... She almost ruined my contract with Alois.” 

“Hm? What?” Pierre asked. 

“Oh… did you not notice this seal?” Claude pointed to the contract seal on his left hand. 

“Yeah… I thought it was a tattoo,” Pierre said with a slightly disappointed look on his face. This caught Claude’s attention. 

“What’s bothering you?” he asked. 

“Well… I just thought you were taking care of Alois out of the goodness of your heart,” Pierre replied, “All of this makes much more sense, though.” Claude stared at him with a completely emotionless face. 

“... But what did she do to almost ruin your contract?” Pierre asked. 

“She wanted to make Alois paranoid. She accused me of manipulating him for my advantage alone,” Claude replied. Pierre nodded.

“Is that true?” 

“... No,” Claude replied bluntly, “You must be tired.” 

“I am, but… No, you’re right. I am. It’s been a long night. Where will I be sleeping?” 

“... In my bed?” 

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were already comfortable with that-” 

“Are you okay with that?” 

“What…? Yeah, of course. That’s fine.” 

“Good. I don’t use it, anyways.” 

“Aww, really?? Why?” 

“I prefer to work instead of going to sleep. I don’t need it to survive, it is merely a luxury.” 

“...Huh,” Pierre said with a frown, “Alright, if that’s what you wanna do.” 

“Did you expect me to sleep with you?” Claude asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, “But it’s fine! I mean… didn’t all of that stuff you did earlier take a lot out of you?” Claude tilted his head to the left. 

“You raise a fair point. Very well. I’ll sleep with you, then.” Pierre was unable to stifle a giggle. 

“What?” Claude asked, slightly irritated. This only made Pierre giggle more. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Pierre said, “I’m slightly delirious from being awake for so long. I need some serious sleep.” Claude nodded. 

“Understood. Let’s head upstairs, then.” As the two walked upstairs, Claude thought of how Sebastian would scold him for holding two contracts at once. He saw nothing wrong with it; in fact, the practice was old-fashioned and traditional. But Sebastian was a younger demon, one that prided themselves on being superior and sometimes even “cleaner” than other demons. That reminded Claude too much of what angels would say, though; the point of being a demon was to be the exact opposite of an angel. Well, that was Claude’s philosophy at least. 

“Your bedroom’s very nice,” Pierre said as he laid on the left side of the bed.

“Thank you,” Claude said as he sat on the right side of the bed, but only on the very edge. Pierre stared at his back before beginning to giggle again. 

“You know you can relax, right?” he asked, “That’s the point of going to bed.” Claude turned his head to look at him. 

“... You’re right,” he replied with a sigh, “Allow me to change into better-suited clothing.” Claude walked into his closet, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed into his on-suite bathroom. Pierre looked around the modern and minimalist bedroom; it was such a nice change compared to Aleister’s gaudy and opulent taste in interior decorating. Claude stepped out of the bathroom wearing a band t-shirt and Pierre almost gasped. 

“No way. You love Ghost, too?” He asked with a big smile, “Oh, that’s so cool!” Claude forced himself not to smile at Pierre’s excitement. As he circled around to the right side of the bed, Pierre asked a few questions. 

“I think I can’t choose a favorite song. I will say that my favorite album is Infestissuman,” Claude replied as he laid next to Pierre. 

“Okay but consider: Prequelle.” 

“I think Prequelle is my second favorite album.” 

“What?? But Life Eternal? Faith? See the Light??  _ Hello, what’s not clicking here _ ???” Claude smirked. 

“Yes, those are all great, but consider every single song on Infestissumam.” Pierre rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me that you don’t like Miasma.” 

“I don’t like  Helvetesfönster,” Claude shook his head, “Miasma’s okay.” Pierre frowned and huffed jokingly, sitting up. 

“I can’t believe this. We’ve been married for less than three and a half hours and you’ve already betrayed me,” he said in an incredibly jokey way. 

“I betrayed you? You betrayed me by not liking Infestissumam,” Claude replied, his joking sounding much more monotone. 

“I never said I didn't like it, I said that Prequelle is better.” 

“Oh come on,” Claude said, finding his arms wrapping around Pierre’s waist, “You really don’t think Prequelle is that much better than Infestissumam, do you?” 

“Yeah, I do! Okay, let’s push aside that entirely. Thoughts on Mary on a Cross and Kiss The Go-Goat?” 

“Oh, those are very fun. I think I’m partial to Mary on a Cross, though.” 

“Me too! But Kiss the Go-Goat is so much fun.” 

“Agreed. Now back to Infestissumam-” 

“Oh, god, no,” Pierre replied sarcastically, “Back to how Prequelle is far superior.” 

“Oh, we can prove this right now,” Claude said with a devious smile on his face.

“Go right ahead! Play Ashes right now and bask in the beauty of well it sets the tone before we get wowed by the masterpiece that is Rats!” Pierre spoke with triumph. Claude frowned. 

“Fair is fair; Prequelle has that going for it, but have you even listened to the song Infestissumam itself?” 

“Uh, yeah? I think you just like that album more because you’re a demon.” 

“... Fair. And your aesthetic definitely suits Prequelle much more than mine does.” 

“Well, I’m glad we can agree on something,” Pierre said before breaking the bit and laughing. 

“Hey. I wanted to continue explaining why my taste is clearly superior than yours,” Claude said too seriously to be actually serious. Pierre continued to laugh. 

“We should actually listen to Ghost,” Pierre said. 

“Not right now. It’ll wake Alois up. Besides, he only puts up with my music.” Pierre giggled and laid down next to Claude at last, forcing the demon to move his arms. 

“God… I do actually stand by what I said, though.” 

“Oh, and I stand by what I said; Infestissumam is just more pleasant-sounding.” 

“Does it remind you of the good ol’ days?” Pierre teased and Claude scoffed at him. 

“Goodnight,” he said with fake grumpiness before turning around. Pierre laughed. 

“Hey,” Pierre said, deciding to be serious, “I know I just said this but… thanks for not being a dick and trying to kill me or anything. You’re really trying to make things work out for everyone. You’re a real gem, Claude.” 

“That sounds not serious at all.”

“What?? I mean it, though!!” 

“... We’ll see if you still think that,” Claude said as he glanced at the floor. Pierre frowned and wrapped his arms around Claude. 

“Ah-” Claude tried to push him away, but Pierre only got closer. 

“Hmm… you know, you did say earlier that you were talked down to a lot. I hope that didn’t affect you that much to say something like that to me. Because from what I know so far, you’re nice for a demon.”

“Pierre… That’s not what I meant,” Claude said, annoyed at Pierre for once. 

“We can talk about your past whenever you want, you know.” 

“That will be never,” Claude replied. 

“We’ll see if you still think that,” Pierre mocked him, “But honestly, that’s fine. Now let’s sleep.” 

“... Goodnight,” he said, “I’ll be resting, not sleeping.” 

“Fine, fine,” Pierre huffed, letting go of Claude and laying on his back. Claude glanced at Pierre, but decided to continue laying on his side. 

What a strange human. Passionate, but so inexperienced with demons as a man like him. He had jokingly refused to believe they were real just three days ago, and now he was saying that Claude Faustus was a nice demon. 

Claude wanted to laugh at such foolishness, but the only thing he could feel was a heaviness in his chest. This was not guilt - far from it, actually - but it was a negative feeling that Claude could not exactly figure out. 

\------------------------------------

“I gotta know who this demon is,” Byron said as he paced around the Serpent’s headquarters, “I don’t get how Pierre could’ve fell for it so easily.” 

“... Fell,” Hattie said, “Maybe that’s it.” 

“What?” Byron asked, stopping to look at her, “What are you thinking?” 

“Well,” Hattie looked down as she spoke, “Maybe the demon’s incredibly charming and that’s how Pierre fell.” 

“It could be that demon Pierre was flirting with in Aleister’s home,” Pierce said with a completely serious face. The woman with purple dreadlocks laughed. 

“What??” she asked, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh. I am,” Pierce said, “Jenna, you know when I’m being serious. This is serious-serious.” The woman - Jenna - sighed and agreed with a simple nod. Byron groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“This is ridiculous,” he said, “This cannot be like Pierre. I refuse to believe it.”

“Well… Maybe the demon’s using him for his own reasons,” Hattie said, “Or Pierre is using the demon.” Byron looked over at her with a smile. 

“Hattie, I think you’ve got it,” he said, “Well. I’m tired. I’m gonna head back home.” 

“You can crash here if you want. I’m gonna stay up and read on mutual contracts,” Hattie replied. Byron sighed but agreed to do so. As soon as he left, Pierce and Jenna looked at Hattie. 

“Wasn’t that something very obvious to say?” Pierce asked her, “Like you basically just said yes or no.” Hattie agreed. 

“I think Byron’s just bothered that he didn’t get to see anything happen. And that we lost Chamber. But… I will admit that I don’t know who has the upper hand here. Did our demon make a foolish mistake? Or did it act accordingly and Pierre just got stuck into even more of a corner than he meant to?” Silence followed.

“... We gotta call them in tomorrow,” Jenna said at last before standing up, “Pierce and I are gonna head home. You sure you’re able to stay here by yourself?”

“You don’t gotta worry about me,” Hattie said as she gave her a thumbs-up. With that, Pierce and Jenna made their way to Pierce’s white, unassuming car. He let out a sigh of relief as the two were just alone. Jenna seemed content with the situation they were in, but Pierce was definitely feeling bugged by something. 

“...Maybe we should stay,” Pierce shook his head, “Something’s up.” 

“Are you doubting Hattie?” Jenna asked. 

“No, no… Well… I don’t know” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her, “Oh. You know. I know what it is. It’s that group that lingered while we took over the party.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Yeah!” Pierce sat up straight, smiling coyly, “I don’t know if you heard, but one dude was expecting our two- …. Our two guards to die.” He immediately slumped into his seat. Jenna stared at him, wishing he wouldn’t take every death so seriously. It was a hard thing to say, but if he held every death in his chest, he’d for sure burn out by the time he was 35. 

“Baby,” was all Jenna was able to say.

“I know, I know. Can’t help it. I’m not as cool as Pierre and Byron, all able to just shoot up a bunch of people without a word. Well, honestly, cool’s not the right word, but-” 

“But that’s why I love you,” she said before gently kissing his lips, “What exactly bothered you about the group?” 

“They all seemed so… coordinated,” he said. Jenna smiled. 

“Maybe I’ll do some of my own research after we get ready for bed. I think we’ve got a rival gang on our hands. Or we’ve got a rival business.” 

“Oh? You think they’re coming after you?” 

“It’s possible,” Jenna shrugged, “We’ll find out, though.” As Pierce finally drove away from the headquarters, Hattie was doing research while being completely unbothered. 

“... Something about this isn’t adding up,” Hattie sighed. 

“Agreed. Care to have some tea with me?” a familiar voice asked. Hattie shivered, but took a deep breath. 

To deal with a demon, you must be firm and fearless. 

“Sebastian. Didn’t Ciel tell you to leave me alone?” Hattie asked, completely unsure whether or not Ciel had actually given that order. Sebastian wordlessly moved closer to her. 

“You know,” Hattie sighed, “If you have any plans to piss me off, then I’ve got many ways to push you out of here.” 

“I’m not here to fight,” he said before smiling innocently, “I’m here to talk. Now… would you like some tea?” He was holding two mugs of tea. The thought of drinking something a demon prepared squicked her out. 

“Uhh… Sorry, but I’m good,” Hattie said, shaking her head, “I’ve had enough excitement for one night.” Sebastian sighed. 

“Aw, that’s a real shame. I was hoping we could talk. Just us. Demon to demonologist.” Hattie finally looked at him. If she were any other member of the Serpents, she would’ve slapped that innocent-looking smile of his clean off. But this was Hattie Dawson. Hattie wasn’t innocent and she certainly didn’t have a code to not hurt people, but she didn’t have the nerve to act rudely so easily. Even when faced with the demon who tried to intimidate her in a public place, she couldn’t force herself to be rude. 

But she could say no. 

“How about we talk whenever your master wants to talk with me?” Hattie suggested, “Like I said, I was just hoping to work on research.” 

But demons never liked to hear “no”. 

“Sure, sure. What are you researching?” he asked as politely as she had denied him. Hattie sighed. 

“Mutual contracts. I’m sure you know nothing about them.” 

“I don’t. I do know that… oh… well, maybe I shouldn’t say that,” Sebastian teased her, practically dangling the information above her. 

“I already know that Pierre’s in a mutual contract with a demon. He told us that. He just never said who the demon was.” Sebastian stared at her, wanting her to take the bait in a much more obvious way. 

“So… you just need to figure out who that demon is?” Sebastian asked, leaning on her desk. Hattie shook her head. 

“Don’t need to right now. We’re calling Pierre and the demon over here tomorrow. That or Pierre will bring the demon himself.” Sebastian frowned. 

This was not going the way he planned it would.

“ So! You really don’t need help from an inside source?” Sebastian asked, “I could certainly help if-” 

“I’d prefer to just wait on that until Ciel and I are able to talk.” Sebastian Michaelis? Being shut down? 

Oh, he didn’t like that one bit. 

“You know, Miss Dawson… I would hate to leave without doing something to accommodate for my behavior during the party. I’ll admit that I was… a bit too aggressive.” Hattie laughed softly. 

“... Miss Dawson?” he asked. Hattie only laughed louder. 

“Ohhhh. I get it. That’s what this is about. I swear I got ‘demon of wrath’ from you, but maybe you’re just an insignificant incubus!” 

“Miss Dawson, that really isn’t what this is-” 

“Please! You don’t care at all about the party, you don’t care about ‘accommodating’ for your behavior, and you certainly care way too much about getting information out of me. Don’t act like I’m just a fool! I know my shit, dude.” 

“... Don’t you want to be with a real man for just one night?” Sebastian asked with a coy smile. Hattie clenched her fist. 

“I will never ever sleep with a demon. Ew. Gross. Never,” she replied, “Also the fact that you even think of Byron as less than because of god-knows-what means that I’d never want to have a one-time fling with you anyways. God. You’re disgusting.” 

Had a human ever earnestly called him disgusting before? 

No - hang on a minute - had a human called him disgusting and  **MEANT IT** before?

“Byron is the love of my life,” Hattie continued, “The fact that you - a lowly demon of lust - want to step in-between that for the sake of information drives me… ohhhh.  _ Oh.  _ I want to murder you in cold blood right now! The fact that demons can’t die by sheer human force drives me wild. I can’t even look at you! Get out of my sight, you wretched cur. Your type makes me sick!” Sebastian saved his own anger with a soft laugh. 

“I’m terribly sorry that I upset you. However, that was not my intention of coming here.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Sure,” she replied very sarcastically before turning serious and waving him off, “I’m not an idiot. I’ll speak with you when Ciel is right by your side.” 

“Understood. We’ll meet again, then.” With that, Sebastian took leave. 

“...  _ Oh _ ,” Hattie said the moment she was sure he was gone.

He was a demon of wrath. She was certain of it now.

The demonologist continued her work, fearful that this planted seed of wrath would worsen over time. She needed to make sure that nothing of the sort happened. 


	8. Your Local Girl Gang is Run By a Man

“God!” Hattie complained as she held her head, “I swear, that demon’s gonna get it. Fuck Sebastian Michaelis.” 

“Yeah, _fuck_ Sebastian Michaelis,” Barbie said with a wink before continuing to reapply her lipgloss. Hattie managed to only roll her eyes. That demon gave her a headache fueled by rage alone. 

“Barb…,” Hattie sighed. 

“Mhm?” 

“You might actually need to,” she replied rather seriously. Barbie scoffed; the woman who dared to wear a short pink dress under a long fur coat scoffed at the idea of being intimate with a demon. 

“I mean… he’s not an incubus, right?” 

“Definitely not. All demons feed off of humans, but incubi and succubi specifically feed off of humans while having sex. He’s not an incubus.” 

“Right. I already knew that,” Barbie said with a frown. She then sighed harshly, stopping herself from putting her makeup away. 

“...Hat,” she said without looking at Dawson, “It’s just… we really gotta do this shit?” 

“Hm?” 

“I mean… I got shit to do today.” 

“Oh, not today! What, uh… shit do you have to do today?” 

“I gotta pet-sit.”

“Huh. Really?” 

“Well, that’s why I went to that ball. Wanted some fun before I settled down and watched over this old lady’s cats.” Hattie nodded as she listened to Barbie talk about how the old lady was actually her landlord, how she was getting more than a decent amount of money just to stay at her home and take care of the cat for a few weeks. 

“Sounds nice,” Pierre said with a quick nod. Both women jumped at the sound of his voice. Barbie quickly put away her makeup as Hattie greeted the boss. Pierre was wearing something much more like him; a peachy turtleneck under a white suit and boots that matched.

“Glad you’ve, uh… Made it!” Hattie said, unable to not stare at Claude. 

“Of course I made it. I would’ve told Pierce already that I was staying at home if I, you know, actually was. Can you grab the rest of the main crew?” Hattie nodded and quickly walked away to do just that. Unlike Hattie, Barbie was avoiding the demon’s golden gaze. The thought of meeting his eyes scared the living hell out of her.

“Barb,” Pierre said at last, putting his hands on his hips. She jumped and was able to look at him. 

“You good?” he asked. Barbie slowly nodded.

“Yeah… just, uh… got a lot of my mind.” 

“Ahh. Got it. Say, where exactly are you gonna be pet-sitting?” 

“I… My landlord’s house, of course! It’s a cabin, actually. Imagine just living in a cabin in the middle of the woods… ain’t that nice? Oh! I should say that it’s one of those luxury cabins. She lives in so many vacation-y houses… You know, the houses you rent for a few days during a trip. But she’s going to California for a few weeks to buy a new property and see family. Oh! That’d be nice, don’t you think? To just have a couple homes in good areas with peace and quiet, little sight of any neighbors? I mean, you got the flora, the fauna… in Cali you got a nice ocean view… Doesn’t that sound nice, P?” 

“... I guess,” Pierre shrugged. 

“Ah, yeah. I forgot you had that.”

“ _Huh?_ ”

“Well, with your manor and all… That. I basically just described it. Large place in the middle of a forest. Quiet. No neighbors. I guess that’s my dream life, though. Anyways!” As if right on time, the rest of the main crew walked into the room to see Pierre standing next to Claude Faustus. Pierce looked him over once before sitting down with the rest. Pierre looked at Claude briefly before looking back at everyone else. 

“Okay! So. You’re all probably wondering who’s the demon that I formed a contract with,” Pierre announced, “Well… It’s-” 

“That’s him, I assume?” Byron asked, pointing at Claude. Pierre stared at him before sighing. 

“Yes,” he sighed. Claude cleared his throat. 

“Allow me to introduce myself, then. You may call me Claude Faustus. As mentioned, I am currently in a _mutual_ contract with Pierre, which means I will be assisting the Sixth Street Serpents and their current missions.” 

“... Alright! We got one,” Rosé said with a grin and a fist pump.

“Hang on,” Hattie said, “Can we clarify something?” 

“We can clarify whatever you want,” Claude replied. 

“Good. So you’re not gonna help us with the demon power stuff?” 

“Oh, hell no. Well… I’ll be helping Pierre, but the rest of you are on your own.” 

“You’re kidding,” Luna said, jumping up from her seat, “Pierre, we agreed that we’d all get what we want.” Pierre nodded. 

“That’s true. However, I fear that Aleister Chamber has tricked us.” 

“Ah- No. I refuse to accept that,” Hattie said, crossing her arms and shaking her head, “He’s dumb. Therefore, he’s not smart enough to trick us.” 

“I fear that that’s exactly the case,” Claude intervened, “However… I may be able to sort this out. We just need to get in contact with the right people. 

“... Byron and I talked to this guy with long white hair,” Rosé confessed, “He helped Aleister escape.” Pierre and Claude’s interest were piqued. 

“He did mention this supposed Undertaker fellow, too,” Dasha added, “A couple days ago, of course, but still… I can only imagine who else he’s working with.” The woman similar to Dasha but older and tanner nodded along with her. 

“Yeah, definitely. Something’s not right with that man. I mean… Boss, it’s like I said. That man’s bad news.” Pierre sighed and ran his nails through his hair. 

“I mean… this was the only place I could run to, Lei. You know that. You all know that.” 

“Yes, but I’m agreeing with Lei on this one,” Dasha said, “We got ourselves into something we shouldn’t have.” 

“What?” Pierre asked her. 

“Show him, Byron,” Dasha said. Immediately, Byron pulled out his phone and showed Pierre an article about more allegations against Aleister. As Pierre read through it, Claude decided to continue to talk with the rest of the Serpents. 

“So what exactly does day-to-day look like around here?” He asked.

“That’s a good question,” Lei said with a nod. 

“Good indeed,” Dasha said, “We go by Piere’s schedule. Well, I do.” 

“Not true,” Pierre shook his head as he read through the article. 

“It’s mostly true,” Dasha said with a coy smile, “I mean, I got business meetings of my own, but aside from that, I follow Pierre around when I’m on the job.” 

“Right. What about you?” Claude asked, looking at Pierce. 

“Me? Well, uh… You see, I also kinda just go by whatever Pierre says. I mean, he’s the boss! If he says nothing, then I do the normal stuff… do errands, find some intel, spend time with Jenna, all that good stuff. But if we’ve got a job to do, then we’ve got a job to do.” 

“... I have not received a concise answer so far,” Claude said with a sigh. 

“Well, we’re in a gang, man! I don’t think we have normal schedules! I mean… do you have a schedule that lets you remember what you do almost every single day?” Rosé asked. 

“Yes! I wake up at six AM, clean and make breakfast. By nine AM, Alois wakes up. We have breakfast. While he works on schooling, I clean and work on my own projects. I prepare lunch by one PM. I continue to work on my projects, then I make dinner anywhere from six pm to eight pm. We eat dinner and then continue on with our night as we please. I don’t-” 

“This is cult shit!” Pierre interrupted, “This is literal… actual… cult shit!” 

“Let me see,” Claude said as he walked over to him. Within a minute, Claude confirmed the worst. 

“This is cult shit.” Rituals in the forest, the selling of women and children, creepy masks, and large bonfires. This was bonafide cult shit for sure. 

“Wait… who’s Alois?” Pierce suddenly asked, “Do you have a kid?” Claude stared at him with a completely blank stare. 

“... I am his guardian, yes-” 

“Wait! Awww, you’re a dad?” Barbie asked with a big smile, “That’s too sweet! You look so young for a DILF, but you also have such DILF vibes! Aww, that makes you way less intimidating!” Claude’s brow instinctively twitched, but he didn’t say anything to her. 

Barbie suddenly gasped, “Uh… Cult shit? Like… Rituals in the forest, creepy masks, large bonfires… Really? All that? ”

“All that,” Pierre confirmed with a nod. 

“Dang,” Byron huffed, “Why’d we get involved with a cult leader?” 

“It’s unclear if he’s actually the leader or not,” Pierre added.

“What? Really?” 

“Uh… yeah? You read the article, right?” 

“Of course I did!! Are you serious right now-” 

“Enough,” Dasha said, “I noticed that, too.” 

“Ah- Dasha!!” Byron frowned. 

“What? It’s true. The article never states that he led it or not. We don’t even get a name for the cult.”

“Ah- You’re right!” Pierre said, “Damn!” 

“Damn straight I’m right. We gotta figure out who else is involved in that cult.” 

“Agreed,” Claude said with a nod, “We should send a team of about five people to do just that. Ask around, find more information about prominent figures in his life, anything else.” 

“Yep!” Pierre said with a quick nod, “Why don’t you guys decide amongst yourselves how that’ll turn out? I gotta talk with Claude real quick.” Pierre and Claude walked into the break room, a room that Claude didn’t even expect to exist. 

“Shit,” Pierre said as he shook his head, “I can’t believe we got ourselves involved in this… This is some bullshit!” 

“Well, it’s just like you said,” Claude said, “That’s your shtick.” 

“This isn’t what I wanted. I’m not good with cults,” Pierre shook his head, “Absolutely not. Reminds me too much of my family. Nope nope nope. No way.” Claude placed a hand on his shoulder and stared at him. Pierre let out a sigh.

“Fine. Not exactly. Let’s just say that I was continually forced to be Christian by my family, especially when I was visibly queer. It just felt… you know. Shitty. You know, that’s probably why I’m fucked up.” Claude stared at him with a peculiar stare. How many other reasons were there for why Pierre was “fucked up”? 

“Right. Look, Pierre,” Claude immediately changed the subject, “Did you pull me aside just to tell me that?” 

“Oh! No. Uhh, I think the crew don’t mind you,” Pierre replied, grinning from ear to ear, “So yay! That’s great!” 

“... You’re sure?” Claude asked as he crossed his arms. How did they react when they didn’t like someone?

“Yes! This is great, actually,” Pierre grabbed Claude’s hands, forcing him to stop crossing his arms, “I’m… Hmm. I feel good now. So we can definitely take on this culty bastard after all!” 

“Well, I sure hope so. Now… shall we see what they’ve decided on?” Pierre wordlessly agreed and the two walked back to the crew. 

“Alright, we’re putting Dasha, Lei, and Barbs on the job,” Pierce announced as soon as he saw them, “We also got two low-ranks going along with them.”

“I’ve got a meeting soon so I might as well head out now,” Dasha explained to Pierre, “We will investigate after that meeting is over.” 

“Good. Sounds like a plan,” Pierre said, “Investigate whenever you want.” With a nod, the group dispersed and Pierre introduced Claude to the layout of the headquarters.

“Pierre, are you sure that’s the best team to do investigation?” Claude asked as soon as Pierre finished his explanation, but he only received a cruel stare back.

Claude sighed, “It’s not that they’re not capable, but wouldn’t Byron and Hattie be a much more obvious choice?”

“Why do you say that?” 

“... Byron’s a hit-man, right? He’s therefore much more equipped to investigate, and Hattie surely has research on cults already.” Pierre’s eyes widened. 

“...How did you-” 

“It’s obvious? Well, at least to me. Sebastian figured it out before I did, though. A human like that is very hard to come by. However, all the obvious signs are there. And yet… Byron’s a confusing man, isn’t he?” 

“What are you saying?” 

“He seems like a soft soul… but also one that’s been pushed to the edge. Sebastian was also complaining about that, too; he was saying very rude things that I will not repeat to you because you’re best friends.” 

“Uh-huh. Why are you bringing this up?”

“Because Byron and Hattie seemed like a better pair to investigate cults.” 

“Not that. I get that. I mean why you’re bringing up Sebastian.” 

“... Hmm?” 

“Who… is he?” 

“Sebastian is my… colleague,” Claude said, his face void of emotion per usual. 

“Frenemy?” 

“Excuse me?”

“The way you said ‘colleague’ like that just sounds like you’re frenemies,” Pierre said with a coy smile, “He’s… Is he the demon that danced with me? The one that swept me away from Aleister?” 

“Correct,” Claude said with a nod. Pierre’s smile grew wider. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t jealous of him, then.” 

“Oh, I had danced with you plenty enough.” Pierre scoffed at this. 

“What?” 

“I mean… Hmm. It’s not that. Forget it. Anyways-”

“I gave him a strict order not to do anything sexual or romantic to you. If he did so, I surely would have made him pay for it.” 

“... Oh yeah. He mentioned that.”

“Right then. What were you saying now?”

“I was going to say that you don’t need to worry about Byron. He’s kinda similar to a cat… if you don’t fuck with him, he won’t fuck with you. And if you treat him nicely… well, he’ll just adore you. Ah, that’s why I love cats! They’re so solitary until they’re not and you’ll never know what they’ll do next. They also look like adorable little babies…. They’re baby-shaped!” Claude stared at him, listening. He finally sighed softly. 

“That sounds like something Sebastian would say. Not the baby stuff, though.” 

“What?? But that’s the best part about cats! Ah- I should say that I brought my cat here. I couldn’t bear to leave him at my usual headquarters.” 

“... Where is he currently staying?” 

“Oh, here! I honestly couldn’t bear to stay at Aleister’s. I’m surprised that Aleister didn’t take me to his bedroom, you know.”

“So you’ve been sleeping here, too?” 

“Yeah! I honestly don’t mind. And I can’t sleep without my cat in the same building as me, but I guess the same thing goes for my cat,” Pierre laughed. 

“... Well. You’ll both stay with me for now on, then.” 

“Hmm? Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure. I’ll also help you bring your things to my place, obviously.” 

“... Cool! Thanks, Claude,” Pierre said with a big smile, “Oh, I forgot to say it, but your house is so lovely! It’s modern yet cozy, minimal yet comforting. I love the vibes.” 

“You did not forget to say that. In fact, you kept talking about it during breakfast.” 

“Did I?”

“Yes,” Claude stared at him with furrowed brows. Pierre stared back, a small yet mischievous smile on his face. 

“Oh,” was all he said back. Claude was about to sigh once again, but Byron approached them. He immediately turned to face the slightly taller man. 

“P,” Byron said, “I think Hattie pulled up- Hi!” 

“Hello,” Claude said back, “What did Hattie find?” 

“She, uh…. Uh… She found out more about that Undertaker person!” 

“Oh, good,” Pierre said with a smile, the two quickly following Byron, “What exactly did you find?” 

“I found his current place of work and his last place of work. It says he’s from England, but he specifically worked in London,” Hattie explained, “Can’t find any pictures of the man, though.”

“This is great!” Barb said with a big grin, “Lei, should we head down now?” 

“Probably. I’ll tell Dasha to meet us there.” 

“Sounds like a plan!” Barb said before walking off. Lei glanced at Hattie’s note one more time to get the address before following Barb. 

“This is a funeral home, right?” Byron asked. 

“Looks like it. After all, he is nicknamed the Undertaker for a reason.”

“Oh? Do you know him?” 

“... No,” Claude replied rather harshly. 

“I dunno, man. Sounds like you know him.” 

“...Where are you from?” Claude asked him, “The Midwest?” 

“Bingo,” Byron said, “Wait, are you actually changing the subject?” 

“I don’t know him, if you’re implying that I changed the subject solely because of him. I was just genuinely distracted by your accent.” 

“Distracted? Really? It’s just my voice, dude.” 

“He doesn’t realize it’s thick,” Pierre laughed softly, “Even after living on the West Coast for about 15 or so years before moving back, he doesn’t get it.” 

“It’s like a mixture of Midwestern and west coast, really,” Claude said, slightly amused. Byron frowned at him. 

“Okay, first off: P, it really isn’t that thick. I grew up in Illinois, not fucking Minnesota. You know that! Secondly: Claude… elaborate.” 

“Well, you obviously use words used in the west coast, but your tone and overall way you speak is very Midwestern.” 

“I… Well, does it matter?” 

“It’s just an observation.”

“But does it matter?” 

“It’s. Just. An observation.” 

“This is the dumbest fight I’ve ever heard,” Hattie sighed, Pierre agreeing with a nod. 

“We’re not fighting,” Claude and Byron immediately replied at the same time. 

“I’m just curious,” Claude added. 

“Well, it’s not something I’m asked about a lot!” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes, really!” 

“Knock it off,” Pierre sighed harshly, “Let’s focus on this Undertaker person.” 

“Well… since I know nothing about him-” 

“I swear… something about your reply really bugs me,” Byron crossed his arms. Claude stared at him. 

“There’s nothing about it to worry about. I just said ‘no’. That’s it.” Byron rolled his eyes. 

“Of all the dudes to marry,” he muttered. Claude ignored his comment to focus on the task at hand. 

“Right. I got nothing aside from the address, either,” Hattie said, “Aleister never mentioned him to me.” 

“Never heard of him until a few days ago,” Pierre confirmed with a nod. 

“Right! So… Is he even that important? Or was he purposefully kept away from us?” 

“... It’s got to be the latter,” Byron said with a nod, “You don’t hide shit for no reason.” 

“Was he hiding that connection, though? Clearly it’s just unimportant,” Claude crossed his arms as he leaned forward to look at what Hattie was writing. She was taking notes on what everyone was saying.

“Because Aleister mentioned Undertaker only when asked about where he gets his supplies… Byron. Let’s prove your theory wrong immediately,” Claude said, looking away from Hattie’s notes to stare at Byron.

“What is this, a debate?! We’re just talking-” 

“We’re trying to figure out who Undertaker is to Aleister. Now tell me… do you know where you get your guns from? Do you have a specific seller you go to?” 

“Uhhh-” 

“What?” 

“What are you talking about?” Claude immediately frowned at this. Pierre sighed. 

“Claude figured out that you’re hit-man,” he explained. Byron let out a soft gasp out of reflex. 

“...What?” 

“I’d appreciate it if you just answered my question.” 

“... Well, then… I do have a specific person. I’d prefer to keep them anonymous though… which proves your point wrong,” Byron had taken on a smirk, which only made Claude frown even more. 

“Explain.” 

“Well, my guns are very important to me and my craft, obviously. If these supplies are not important to Aleister, wouldn’t-?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Hattie shook her head, “It doesn’t matter, I guess.” 

“What? You’re the one who posed all of this to us,” Byron pouted. 

“... I think I agree with Claude, honestly,” Hattie sighed, “It’s unimportant to our current investigation. I didn’t mean to ask it as a serious question. It was rhetorical.”Byron crossed his arms and looked out a window and Pierre and Hattie continued to look for more information on Undertaker. 

“No socials, no friends that mention him… nothing,” Pierre huffed, “Those five better come back with some good info.” 

“And if they don’t?” Claude asked him. 

“... Then they don’t?” Pierre stared at him with a confused face, “I wouldn’t be upset at them at all. I’m upset because there’s just nothing here aside from what we’ve already got; there’s just this strange address.”

“... Then let’s focus on the cult?” Claude suggested. Hattie immediately shook her head. 

“Negative. I’ve got plenty of potential cults in mind, just not the name of the one that Aleister’s in. Let’s focus on the man himself.” Pierre and Claude agreed with that next step. 

Byron watched the three of them discuss Aleister Chamber, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how Claude had reacted when he asked that question, not to mention how he acted after. Besides, seeing a demon in a human form act human was so… jarring. And yet, Byron had noticed the inhuman qualities in Claude; there was his stoic behavior when not debating Byron and his golden eyes. Those stuck out the most, but he was sure there were plenty more. So why did Pierre agree to form a mutual contract with Claude? What drove him to such a length? 

Byron left the room to get some fresh air, smoke a little bit of weed, and just clear his mind in general. Claude’s presence bothered him, but he didn’t want to be rude from the get-go. 

Maybe he should just take a few deep breaths and think positively. After all, there would be many more days where he’d have to deal with Claude. He’d have to get to know him more before judging him, even if he was a demon that almost definitely manipulated Pierre into this eternal deal. 


	9. The Survival Instinct

“Nooo, kitty! Get down from there,” Pierre spoke in a baby voice to his cat. His cat, white and fluffy, was finding his way around the Spider’s Web - Claude’s home - and trying to make certain items his roost. One item was the freezer in Claude’s kitchen; Claude had both a refrigerator and an upright freezer, the latter being where the fluffy kitty had taken to. Claude simply sighed at the sight and looked for a towel or small blanket to place on top of the freezer. 

Unfortunately for Claude, partnerships like this required sacrifices. Well, any contract required a demon to accommodate humans, but mutual contracts especially required accommodations.

“Ah- You don’t have to do that, I can just buy a cat tree and place it by a window or something,” Pierre told Claude as he placed a small black blanket on the freezer. Claude briefly looked at Pierre, completely silent. 

Right as Pierre was about to continue talking, Claude said, “I don’t mind him sitting up there. I’ll order a cat tree sometime soon.” Pierre was going to respond, but both were now looking 

“...Do you even like cats?” Pierre asked at last. 

“I like all animals,” Claude admitted, “Animals have a certain innocence that no other being can claim. They are unaware of the world yet completely aware of those they love. As long as those around them are happy, they are happy.” Pierre looked at the demon. 

“You really think so?”

“I know so,” Claude simply replied before walking to the other side of the kitchen. In the wild, in captivity, and even when kept as pets, all animals were innocently selfish and selfless at the same time. It is the survival instinct that often clashes with the instinct to keep others alive or to keep them happy instead. That isn’t to say that they, therefore, shouldn’t be harmed for the sake of the survival of others. In fact, that sort of thinking would make Claude a hypocrite- humans are animals, after all.

What, really, is the Survival Instinct? In theory, it is the need to keep yourself alive no matter what. That’s what made humans so animalistic, what truly confirms that they are heavily evolved primates. But there’s something so human about an animal that would keep company with a human. After all, the animal is essentially trapped there with the human. If the animal briefly escaped, it is mildly scolded at best. At worst… 

“What are you doing?” Pierre asked, wrapping an arm around Claude’s waist. The demon originally wanted to pull away; the only person in his life that had been this affectionate during the past ten years or so was Alois. 

Perhaps change was good, though. Adaptation and evolution was Claude’s game. Besides, he only allowed Alois to do that because of the boy’s temper and past trauma. But for Pierre… perhaps it was just natural. Or was this also trauma-based? But if Claude were to compare Pierre and Alois once again, he’d start to feel a pit in his stomach. He didn’t want to compare them, even if the small similarities were obvious.

“I’m trying to prepare lunch,” Claude replied at last. Pierre smiled coyly. 

“It sure seems like you’re trying.”

“Hm?” 

“You seem distracted.”Claude wasn’t distracted; Claude was focused on his thoughts. Preparing lunch would come after he cleared his mind.

“...I am,” Claude lied, “Give me a moment before I start.” 

“Take your time,” Pierre said with a kind smile before walking away to stare at his cat. Claude let out a soft sigh of relief and walked out of the kitchen. 

This was a typical problem for the demon. He’d always get in his head. Perhaps with Pierre around, he could actually express his thoughts; Alois had no time for such talks. 

In fact… that could be part of both of their survival instincts. Even before Alois, Claude hid thoughts and feelings. Despite the surface appearance, he certainly knew emotions and what they felt like when he experienced them. But that was the thing about emotions and the surface appearance; there was something about the human experience that Claude felt terribly disconnected from. Sebastian, centuries younger than him, grasped emotions in a much more human way. That’s not to say that demons never feel emotions, for it was quite the opposite. Why did Lucifer defy God, after all? It was not a completely calculated fall. 

But Claude felt detached. Detached was the best word for this feeling, for being separated from his emotions was exactly how he was so powerful to begin with. Hannah was the exact opposite; her emotions gave her power. 

Everybody’s survival instinct differed, as it should; if one were to stay alive, they couldn’t follow the lifestyle of someone with a completely different body type than them.

“Ohh, kitty,” Pierre laughed, “I love you!” Claude wondered how Pierre functioned. Sure, he would see the day-to-day sooner rather than later, but he wanted to know at that very moment. What did Pierre’s survival instincts tell him to do?

Well, they told him to join a gang and eventually take the role of the leader of said gang. What pushed him to do that? Was it a slippery slope? When? Why? How? Who? 

“Are you bugging out?” Alois asked, forcing Claude out of his thoughts. Claude looked at him with a blank stare.

“No,” he said as he adjusted his glasses, “You should go to the kitchen. Pierre wants to show you something.” Trancy’s eyes lit up and he rushed to the kitchen. 

That was another thing- how did Pierre enchant Trancy so quickly? Was it the similarities? Or was it just the idea of a new person in the Spider’s Web? 

If a butterfly and a wasp were caught in a spider’s web, which one would the spider eat first? While the butterfly is the obvious choice, the wasp was an enemy that was now prey. Watching it writhe would be nothing but pleasure for the spider, but the spider would most likely go for the butterfly in the end. 

In the Spider’s Web, survival instinct didn’t matter. 

Claude decided to head back into the kitchen and prepare lunch. He glanced at Alois laughing as he gently poked the cat’s nose. Pierre smiled at both the cat and Alois. 

“Good boy,” he encouraged the cat, scratching by its tailbone. Alois looked over at Claude, who was still considering the survival instinct of everyone in the household. 

“Claude,” Alois tried to get him out of his mind again, “What do you think of Clove?” Claude looked over the cat. Silence followed. 

“... He’s a nice addition,” he said at last. This did not please Alois, but it certainly pleased Pierre. While Alois crossed his arms and couldn’t believe that Claude wouldn’t even say that the cat was cute, Pierre thought of his words as incredibly sweet and thoughtful; after all, cats are obviously cute. Whether or not you want them in your house is a completely different thought entirely. Unless you were some monster that just didn’t like cats and didn’t think they were cute.

Come on. They’re baby-shaped. 

Once Pierre wandered out of the kitchen, Alois confronted Claude, “So. What’s the real reason Pierre’s staying here?” 

“Hm?” 

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Pierre didn’t tell you?” 

“Oh,” Alois said with a frown, “No, he didn’t. So tell me.” With a sigh, Claude briefly explained the idea of a mutual contract. Alois was still frowning. 

“... Is that so? What, are you bored of me?” he laughed.

“No,” Claude replied with no hesitation. Alois frowned again. 

“So what is it?”

“It’s for work,” Claude lied. At this point, it wasn’t really for work. All he needed to do was stop Pierre from trying to enter Hell; true diplomacy just took extra steps. 

“Oh,” Alois replied, “So that’s it? You don’t even care about him, then?” Claude finally looked over at him, which only made Alois smile. 

“So you do care,” Alois said, crossing his arms out of smugness this time, “But why is that? Hmm?” Claude stared at him, giving him no answer. After 15 seconds, he focused on making lunch. 

“Why do you care for him, Claude?” Alois asked. 

“I never said that I did.” 

“But it’s obvious you do. So just tell me. I won’t even order you to tell me why. After all… if you can’t trust me, how are we going to be able to trust Pierre?” Claude quickly looked at him, his golden eyes intense.

He hated when the boy made a good point. 

“He’s handsome. Well, I suppose he’s more beautiful than handsome,” Claude said as he wiped his hands off with a towel.

“... Is that it?” Alois prodded for more information. To be fair to Claude, he had a type; both Hannah and Pierre were very much his type. 

“It’s mainly for my work as a demon outside of our contract, Alois. You don’t need to worry about it,” Claude said, ending the conversation there no matter how many times Alois tried to strike a nerve. Nothing worked.

The survival instinct. 

Alois eventually gave up and decided to bug Pierre about it. Suffice to say, Pierre was much more understanding about it. Claude listened to them talk as he finished lunch. Once lunch was ready, Claude spoke with the two humans as they ate. He slowly stopped talking altogether, which concerned Pierre when he asked a question and Claude didn’t respond. 

“He does that sometimes,” Alois shrugged, “He thinks too much.” Pierre looked over at him with a concerned furrowed brow. Alois shrugged once again and started talking to Pierre. Pierre sighed softly and went along with it. After lunch was done, Claude was talking here and there, but only when asked. Alois rushed off to his room, excited to talk to Ciel for some reason or other. Pierre couldn’t remember. 

Claude especially couldn’t remember.

“Are you okay?” Pierre asked. Claude looked at him. Right as he was about to reply with “yes” as if he was obviously okay, Pierre continued to speak.

“You didn’t look okay. Are you sure you’re okay? Is something bothering you?” 

“...Nothing’s bothering me,” was all Claude said as he began to clean, but Pierre immediately followed him so he could help out. Pierre said nothing until they were done. 

“Are you sure-”

“I’m fine. Please stop asking,” Claude replied politely. Almost too politely. Pierre obeyed his wishes; he crossed his arms and frowned like a petulant child until Claude offered to make tea for both of them. 

“...If you must know, I do have a tendency to just…,” Claude stopped himself, trying to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t sound pathetic. 

“Dissociate?” Pierre asked, tilting his head to the side. This made the demon sigh, but it was the word that worked best.

“Yes,” he admitted, “That’s all that happened.” Pierre frowned again, but it was a sad frown. He placed a hand on Claude’s lower back as he moved close to the demon. 

“I understand, but that’s-” 

“Pierre. With all due respect, I don’t want to discuss it.” 

And that was that. 

“... Do you want honey or sugar?” Claude asked. 

“Honey,” Pierre replied, staring out the nearby window. They sat by the breakfast nook again and drank tea, neither saying a word. As comfortable as Pierre was with silence, there was a difference between silence when nothing needed to be said and silence when something definitely needed to be said.

But nothing was said. 

“Pierre,” Claude spoke at last. Pierre looked where Claude was staring; out of boredom and the need to do something, he had squished a spider under his thumb. It hadn’t occurred to Pierre that a spider demon housed spiders in his home and would want to protect them.

“Sorry,” Pierre sighed. 

“It’s fine. Try not to do it again.” That spider had just been trying to explore. It could have been trying to find its home or make a new home somewhere else. 

The cat began to meow at the two of them.

“What is it, baby boy?” Pierre cooed. The cat jumped down from the freezer and sat right next to Pierre’s feet so that the gang leader could pet him every now and then. 

“...So what do you think of everyone?” Pierre asked at last, trying to move on. 

“Byron and Hattie seem like complicated people. Everyone else seems nice,” the demon replied. Pierre looked at him, hoping he’d clarify. 

“I just don’t know how to feel about the two of them. They seem very competent, but they also seem entirely held back by their emotions and desires. That describes Byron much more, though. I would just say that Hattie seems nice but she’s a wild card.” Pierre laughed.

“She’s definitely a wild card. She doesn’t really look like it, but I can definitely confirm that she is.” Claude nodded along with what he was saying. 

“What’s wrong with Byron?” 

“Nothing,” Claude explained, “It’s just that he has… potential, but doesn’t want to work for it.”

“...Okay??”

“...I apologize.” 

“Hm?” 

“I’m explaining this as I view humans. If you’re looking for a human opinion, then… he’s also nice?? I guess.” Pierre laughed at his attempt to be human. 

“I understand now. That was my bad,” he replied, “So you don’t have an opinion on the others, then.”

“Precisely,” Claude said with a nod, “But no one acted suspiciously; no one seemed involved with Aleister’s disappearance.” Pierre nodded in agreement. The two finished their tea and Claude went to his office, leaving Pierre to his own devices. 

But what would he do? 

Claude jumped when he heard both of them laughing. There was something to be said about how even the genuine laughter that came from Alois grated his ears from time to time. Was it the volume? Was it the context? What caused such… irritance? 

He was trying to focus, but it was almost like the laughter mocked him. But why? If anything, Alois should be the one feeling mocked. But Claude rarely laughed at or with him. Alois, however, laughed a lot; Alois was loud, bold, and charismatic. That wasn’t to say that Claude couldn’t be charismatic. Perhaps it was the fact that even though this was the Spider’s Web - Claude’s Domain - and the demon was in control, Alois took up more space than he realized. 

He took up his space.

The survival instinct. _The survival instinct. THE SURVIVAL INSTINCT._ **_THE SURVIVAL INSTINCT._ **

He would have to focus another time; Sebastian Michaelis had urgent news, and it was imperative that they all knew about it. 

All of them.


	10. An Unusual Undertaker

When Pierre stepped into the Undertaker’s “office”, he was confronted by members of his own gang and none other than the fabled Sebastian and Ciel Phantomhive himself. They briefly shook hands and everyone began to share information. 

“We were all here together just now,” Dasha explained, Sebastian backing her up with a nod. Ciel was using his cane to stand nearby Sebastian while Pierre was already sitting down, Claude standing right next to him. Alois was distracted by his phone. 

“All here meaning Ciel and I and the three you sent here, of course,” Sebastian added, “Whenever we asked questions, he was… acting off. More off than usual. Off here meaning that rather than just acting strange or creepy, he was… distracted by something. Perhaps his own thoughts?” Pierre nodded in agreement. 

“It’s most likely,” Pierre replied, “So! Sebastian, Ciel… tell me about yourselves.” 

“...Hmm?” Sebastian and Ciel asked at the same time. 

“Well, apparently you’re both interested in me. Or at least the gang.” Claude smirked, which only made Sebastian frown in response. Curse this damn Spider. 

“That’s true,” Ciel said with a nod, “However, that’s on my end. I don’t mean any disrespect by my inquiries, but I would like to speak with you about a few things sometime soon.” Pierre stared at him as a small smile formed on his face. 

“Of course. Sometime soon,” Pierre reiterated, “For now, let’s focus on Undertaker. You knew of him briefly?” 

“Briefly,” Ciel confirmed, “He has a business and home in London, and it appears he followed me here.” Pierre nodded along with what he was saying. 

“We’re not sure why,” Sebastian immediately said after, “However… he was courteous to us until these three ladies arrived. That was when he became distracted.” Lei, Dasha, and Barbie all agreed with that statement. 

“We walked in and he didn’t say anything immediately,” Barb began to say.

“After that, I said that I needed a coffin for my son,” Lei said, “It was just a cover story. He finally said something to us and was helpful. However… you won’t believe this. He said that he’d have to ‘craft’ some more because all of these are already taken… How cryptic is that?” Pierre looked around, realizing that there wasn’t a single coffin in this room. 

How odd. 

“...I see.”

“It’s very fucking cryptic,” Dasha sighed, “Anyways, we couldn’t get much contact information from him. Perhaps he lives here.”

“That’s my belief,” Ciel said with another nod. Pierre finally noticed the thin yet smug smile on Ciel’s face. It was as if he knew all of this already - perhaps he just did - but something was off about that smug look; this look was that of an adult’s, not a child’s. Pierre then glanced over at Alois, who knew little to nothing about this man; he, too, looked this way. Claude had decided to bring him along after Alois begged him. Pierre kept saying it was fine, but now he was wondering “What on Earth happened to these children?” 

“He suddenly left after a phone alarm went off,” Barbie finished the account, “He said he had urgent business. He wouldn’t stay despite whatever we said.” And that was it. Silence followed.

“... You know, the coffins were actually… old-looking. Antique, even,” Dasha said aloud. 

“That was something mentioned on the website. House-made coffins,” Byron replied, running a hand through his hair, “Some could be antiques, though.” 

“What the hell are ‘house-made’ coffins?” Alois asked, looking up from his phone. 

“He assembles them himself, I imagine,” Sebastian replied. Alois instinctively frowned and looked back at his phone. How dare that man talk to him!

“Is that all you wanted to tell us?” Claude asked Sebastian. 

“Well. I thought you wanted to know that the Serpents were investigating Undertaker, considering that you’re working against them. Or is that no longer a thing?” Sebastian asked, a dark smile on his face. Claude stared at him, his eyes slowly narrowing. 

“...Right,” Pierce stepped forward to stop a fight from occurring, “We are allies, now. Considering that you’re seemingly close, you two are now allies as well. We’ll help with whatever’s needed. Per Pierre’s orders, of course.” Pierre nodded along with that sentiment. 

“However…” Pierre said as he stood up to look out a window, “It’s odd that we’re all gathered here. Just days ago, none of us really knew one another at all. Now that we’re acquainted with one another, it’s going to be interesting to see how all of this plays out.” 

“... Boss,” Pierce said, “We need to talk about something while we’re here.” 

“Hm?” Pierre asked without turning around, hands clasped behind his back. 

“During the ball, we saw a group of people lingering after we told everyone to leave. They were… odd. They seem to know about us and… Sebastian, is it?” 

“Correct,” Sebastian said while still staring at Claude, both immediately knowing what was being referred to: The Grim Reapers. Now why were they there that night? Aside from Will needing to reap the souls of those two gang members, what use was it to attend a ball? It could’ve been fun for Grell, but Sebastian figured it was most likely that they were digging into the current situation. Did they know that Ciel thought they’d find the culprit of his parents’ deaths in America? Did they know that Claude and Pierre were in a mutual contract? 

Did Alois even know? 

“... Well, it was probably just hecklers,” Pierre shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about them.” Pierce and Byron both frowned at the back of his head. 

“It totally wasn’t,” Byron huffed, crossing his arms, “Come on. Something’s weird about that.” Byron wished that Hattie had come. Perhaps she could explain it? 

“Well… maybe. Hecklers from a rival?” Pierce suggested. Pierre nodded in agreement, still not turning around. It was at this point that Ciel analyzed him. 

Pierre looked the same he did in that video he saw on Twitter. However, it was… different to see a man like this in person. It made everything high-risk. But if Pierre had a schtick for high-risk situations, then so did Ciel. And while Ciel would never even try to assassinate the President, he could certainly relate to Pierre’s overall track record. It was the perfect foil… a young man and a teenage boy; both had power beyond themselves and both were considered asocial or even antisocial. Both were now contracted with a demon… In Ciel’s mind, he was the anti-hero of this story; he was a terror according to the unsaid rules of society, sure, but this was his story and he was going to exact his revenge on those who deserve it. Did this then make Pierre his counter, the anti-villain? A man with heroic intentions that carries out awful actions?

Was Ciel even a hero?

Pierre turned around to solely look at Ciel. If they were all characters in some conventional story, Pierre would declare that, no, he wasn’t Ciel’s ally. He’d reveal that he knew exactly what happened to his parents during and after the fire and he knew who did it. He’d cackle evilly and leave with his underlings, still as charming as ever. But that’s not what happened. 

“Ciel,” Pierre said with a soft smile, “Can you tell us anything that you specifically know about Undertaker?”  _ What kind of a question was that?  _

“Well…,” Ciel hesitated as looked at Pierre, “He’s somewhat close to my family, I know that?” Pierre continued to smile, but his eyes looked… inquisitive. And that was never good for someone like Ciel or even someone like Pierre. 

“Is that so? And why is that?” He asked, approaching him. Alois suddenly perked up to open his big mouth. Ciel wished he hadn’t said what he did say. He didn’t want Pierre knowing that he was the Queen’s Watchdog of the Underworld. That would get Pierre to trust him less. Him? Working with a secretive investigator? It sounded ridiculous. 

Was that what Alois wanted? Was he already jealous? 

“I… I see,” Pierre said with a laugh as he stared at a grinning Alois who was holding onto his arm, “Well, that’s certainly interesting! But, uh… you have no intentions of shutting me down or anything, right?” He laughed again as if he was scared. Perfect. 

“Oh, no,” Ciel replied as if Alois hadn’t offended him at all, “I deal with criminals regularly. It’s really no big deal.” Pierre slowly frowned at this. 

“... Right,” he replied. It was as if being labeled a “criminal” set him on edge. What for? Was that not what he was?

“Well, good. So he, too, knows about all that stuff?” Pierre asked, changing the subject back to Undertaker. His brows were still furrowed, but perhaps he was just concentrating now. 

“He does,” Ciel confirmed. 

“It’s no wonder why he sided with Aleister, then,” Pierce quipped, shaking his head. 

“Actually, we had a run-in with that man a few months ago,” Sebastian said, “I won’t give you the details to save Ciel some embarrassment.” Ciel held his anger in at the mere mention of what happened. Never again would he think about that event for the rest of his life. 

“Oh, are you okay?” Pierre asked instinctively. Ciel stared at him with an odd expression but told him that he was fine. He was fine, but it had been embarrassing and even a bit demeaning. 

“Hey. Something’s going on downtown,” Alois said as he looked up from his phone, “Something bad.” Most of the group checked their phones and found the same; something bad was happening downtown. A building was slowly but surely imploding on itself. What was the cause of such a thing. 

Suddenly, Pierre said, “We’re checking this out.” 

“That’s not necessary,” Dasha replied, shaking her head, “If we’re spotted near this disaster,m then we’ll be blamed for sure.” Suddenly, Ciel had an idea.

“Undertaker… he might be there,” he announced, “We’ll go at once. Sebastian, let’s go.” 

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian said with a smug smile and followed Ciel. Pierre looked at everyone else. 

“Well! Come on, let’s go,” he spoke with slight irritance, “Dasha- you’ll take Lei and Barb there. Byron and Pierce, go on your own. We’ll follow Ciel and Sebastian, so just drive behind me.” 

“Got it,” Pierce and Dasha said simultaneously. They all headed in their respective groups. Alois was bouncing in his seat. A real disaster was happening before his very eyes and he was excited to see the outcome. However, Pierre didn’t immediately follow Sebastian and Ciel. 

“... What is it?” Claude asked him, “Are you okay?” Pierre only stared ahead of him, trying to make himself drive to the site. Something, however, was on his mind. 

“I’m fine,” he said at last, “I’m just thinking about Ciel.” Pierre watched as Alois went from excited to upset that he’d even mention him. 

“What about him?” He asked defensively, crossing his arms. 

“Nothing. He’s interesting, that’s all. Kind of a weird boy, if anything.” 

“I’m interesting, aren’t I?!” 

Pierre laughed, “You are. You’re not weird, though.” 

“I’d beg to differ,” Claude snarked, “Let’s just go, Pierre.” Alois agreed with sudden joy. Pierre sighed and started driving. Immediately, Pierce and Dasha followed him. There was no telling what they’d find when they arrived. Would Undertaker already be selling coffins like hotcakes? Would he even be there? Would the tower be nothing but shambles by the time they arrived? It was a steel structure made for quite a few tech companies to share. However, no actual innovation was going on there; it was typical office-work. So who’d want to take down a building like this, especially to have it implode upon itself with all of those people inside? Surely this was the work of someone evil, not the building being faulty or anything like that. 

Did Undertaker know this would occur? That would explain why he was so distracted, even leaving during a sale? Was he the cause of it, then? 

There was only one way to find out; they’d have to learn these answers only after they arrived at their destination. Pierre began to drive faster, focused on his pressing questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a short chapter! I have a big chapter coming up next, so don't worry.


	11. The Death and Rebirth of Capitalism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big TW for disaster/destruction/suffering and a small TW for mentions of a suicide.

When they arrived at the scene, Barbie gasped in horror. No one else did anything while she was standing there shocked and horrified.

“This is just terrible,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. She was right; the building looked as if it was going to topple forward at any moment. If it were to be destroyed any further, it would collapse and even fall on the surrounding crowd. That would cost far more lives than anyone ever expected from a typical implosion.

“Sebastian, head up there at once,” Ciel ordered. No one saw his eyes glow bright pink, but Sebastian smiled at his young master, placing a hand over his heart. 

“Yes, my lord,” were his last words before he jumped away, seemingly disappearing out of thin air. Pierre’s brow instinctively furrowed. Why would that kid send Sebastian? Just because he’s a demon? How foolish. 

“Byron. Check from the rooftops,” he ordered, “Pierce, stay here. And Claude… stay down here as well.” Alois instinctively clung onto Claude to make sure that he followed orders, and the two Serpents did as they were told. Byron walked over to a stairway aside an apartment complex and jogged up them with equipment - a sniper rifle - while Pierce crossed his arms. As he was wondering how something like this could even happen at a most unfortunate time, Claude had taken to crossing his arms as well; this was not a good scene for any of them to be at. If law enforcement were to blame the Sixth Street Serpents for this disaster, then that wouldn’t be worth the pain of legalities and so forth. And if Earl Ciel Phantomhive - CEO of the Funtom Toy Company - were to also act suspicious, that wouldn’t just work out in Claude’s interest. After all, he wanted Sebastian and his master here for a reason. 

“Oh, hey, is that the guy we’re looking for?” Pierce asked, pointing over at a six-foot man wearing flowy black clothing. His silver hair - one piece of it braided - moved elegantly as he set up shop selling coffins and offering other funeral services for the very recently deceased. 

“Are you kidding?” Pierre asked himself, about to say how any scumbag who was doing this surely only cared about money. But Ciel knew better than him when it came to the man before them all. 

“That’s him,” Ciel said with a definitive nod. As far as he knew, Undertaker’s main motivation was laughter. And this? This was a performance. 

Ciel walked away from the group, which earned cries from the Serpents. This kid and his arrogance… if only he knew better! 

“Pierce, Claude: keep an eye on him,” Pierre ordered, “Al and I will stay here with the ladies.” It was phrased so casually, but Labelle was concerned for Ciel. When he was that kid’s age, he certainly wasn’t going around and interrogating strange old men. It made him wonder what kind of shit happened to make Ciel act like the protagonist of a YA novel. 

Of course, the men followed Pierre’s orders. When they were about four feet away from Ciel and Undertaker, they stopped; everything was going… smoothly. As if this was just a normal thing, as if Ciel and Undertaker knew each other. 

“Well, I’m just offering services to anyone in need,” was the first thing they caught Undertaker saying, “In fact, I’m offering a special discount because of this… you just know that there’s far more people who’ve done nothing that are just dying in a miserable way up there.”

“Oh, so you’re not involved in this?” Pierce asked. It was a genuine question, but it was as if Pierce suspected this shady figure to be the cause of all of this. 

“Why would I be? This is needless chaos… No, there’s only one person who could’ve done this. But oh well! No chance stopping him, of course. That’s why I’m here to make it easy on these families. I mean… if you were down here knowing damn well that your husband or dad was in that building, you’d want as much help as possible, right? And I certainly didn’t come here because the politics here are any better than England’s! Sometimes it’s worse, especially with situations like these… don’t you agree, Little Phantomhive?” Claude instinctively scoffed, his arms still crossed; they had no time to listen to a rambling old man. Ciel could only nod in response, not specifically agreeing with anything in particular. 

“Oh, you’re not a Tory, are you?” Undertaker called out Claude, “You’re better than that, aren’t you?” Claude stared at him with a completely vacant expression. Of all the things to ask…

“I’m not a Tory,” he replied, “What are you doing here?” Undertaker stared at him, a smile on his face. He didn’t have the time to explain himself again. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, revealing a nasty but healed scar across his eyes. 

“...It’s quite sunny out,” Undertaker told the three of them before pointing at his sunglasses with a long black nail, “I’ve had few chances to wear these. Glasses bother me while I’m working. I can only imagine the trouble you deal with.” That was another dig at Claude, of course. 

“...Right,” Pierce sighed, “Look, man, some of my colleagues saw you last night at one Aleister Chamber’s manor. We think you’ve taken him somewhere that we can’t find.”

“Ah- You’re really asking that right now?” Ciel asked with an annoyed tone. 

“Yes, I am. It’s important,” Pierce immediately replied. Undertaker let out a small laugh. 

“Your friends did see me and I did help him out, but he’s an amusing man,” he explained, twirling that thin braid around his fingers, “He begged me, anyhow. But I can’t tell you where he is. That’d ruin the mystery, now wouldn’t it?” 

“I don’t care about a mystery. Man, this is real life,” Pierce explained, “He’s trafficking little girls and women, for God’s sake. What part of that is amusing?” 

“Oh, none of it. But his attitude and personality? It’s laughable.” Pierce couldn’t reply to that, especially when Undertaker was laughing at a distant memory. Claude and Ciel looked at the building, both hoping that Sebastian was going to sort all of this out. 

* * *

Admittedly, getting to a room with zero corpses was hard, but Sebastian passed through hallways that didn’t have anybody screaming at him for help. Sweat formed on his brow as he made his way to the CEO’s office. He wiped it away with his black coat before shedding himself of it. It was hotter than Hell. 

“Please, just… just stop this! You’ve got what you wanted,” the CEO of the company renting office space begged… someone. Sebastian stormed into this office to find said CEO at gunpoint. And holding that gun was someone in a blood red suit. 

Grell hadn’t worn a suit in god-knows-how-long. If it’s not her… then who? 

“You’re interrupting something,” the man with the gun said after clearing his throat, “May you please leave? This is a private conversation.” Sebastian smiled and closed his eyes. 

“Forgive me for intruding, but you’re causing a lot of destruction. And I am going to put a stop to it,” Sebastian said before snapping his eyes open, revealing pink irises once more. And then he saw the shimmer of this man’s lime green eyes. 

“Aww, how cute,” he laughed, throwing the CEO - a middle-aged white man - to the ground. However, this man also looked like a middle-aged white man. However, he had thick dark blond hair and tan skin.

“...Where are your glasses?” Sebastian asked him. 

“Hmm? Oh, well… you see… I only need them for reading,” the man joked, “What’s your name… demon?” 

“I am a demon, but my current name is Sebastian Michaelis. And your name?” 

“... Niall Moore,” the man grinned from ear to ear, “And you’re going to remember that name, for it will be the name of the man who’ll kill you!” Sebastian originally readied himself to fight, but this Niall character wasn’t telling him that. 

The CEO was on the ground, blood everywhere. Niall Moore had his scythe in hand - a sparkling-clean scythe with a diamond-encrusted handle - and blood was puddled underneath it. Sebastian watched as the man put on glasses not unlike Claude’s and skim through a notebook. He murmurs the CEO’s name to himself before checking off a few things in the notebook and slamming it shut. 

“Well! Show’s over, kiddo,” Niall said with a shrug. 

“Excuse me? I’m definitely older than you.” 

“... Hmph. You don’t look it.” 

“Perhaps you’re just meant to look old,” Sebastian replied with a smirk, but Niall rolled his eyes. What an immature man! 

“You’re faced with a man capable of ending your demonic existence and your choice is to insult my appearance? Really?” Niall laughed, “Oh, it’s so rich… Really, it is!” 

“Speaking of rich… what’s with the diamonds? You wore a tacky diamond suit at the masquerade party, did you not?” 

“Hmm? Diamond suit? No, I don’t recall wearing that,” Niall frowned, putting a finger to his chin, “That sounds like me, though… Tell you what! Give me a moment and I’ll tell you why I’m really doing this.” Sebastian stared at him before nodding slowly. 

“Alright. Give it your best shot, sir.” 

* * *

Pierce looked down at his Rolex while tapping his foot. Everyone who had gone to the scene had gathered once again. After Byron told Pierre what he saw, Pierre had ordered him to take Lei, Dasha, and Barb back to their current set-up, that garage-turned headquarters. 

“What’s bothering you?” Claude whispered to Pierce, judging by his body language alone. Pierce glanced his way, that whisper being the softest he’d heard anyone whisper in his whole life. It had almost sounded like wind just passing by. 

“Well, I just… we’ve been here for over thirty minutes and nothing’s happened. No one’s come up to help yet, either. It’s weird, don’t you think?” Claude had to agree with that.

“However… If that’s the case, then that means something supernatural’s happening.” 

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Pierce said as he placed his hands on his hips.

“What do you think it is, then?” 

“You’re the demon. You know better than I do. This isn’t demonic, is it?” 

“No. Not at all. This is more like Destiny herself taking charge of a situation.”

“Really? So what’s that, then? Just… a random occurrence?”

“No. It’s as if a Grim Reaper had intervened. But to cause such a disaster…” 

“A ‘Grim Reaper’?”

“A Grim Reaper. A death god, if you will. They take souls that have to pass on.” 

“No, I… I know what the Grim Reaper does, but there’s multiple of them?” 

“Over two-hundred thousand people die each day.”

“...Right. Got it.” 

“Good.” Claude certainly wasn’t a fan of over-explaining; if people wanted to learn, they’d have to make the connection between information themselves.

“This is… awful, either way,” Pierce said.

Claude nodded, “Of course.” 

“Then quit gossiping and do something about it,” Alois suddenly and loudly interrupted. Pierre could only stifle laughter in response as Claude and Pierce frowned, both men crossing their arms. As Pierce looked around, he saw a man that hadn’t been there before. He had a fashionable, trendy backpack slung over one shoulder as he stared up at the imploding building. He had striking hair; it was brown and curly, but the ends were dyed blue. Instinctively, Pierce looked over at Ciel. Did he see him, too? 

“... Alois,” Ciel whispered as he shifted his stance, “Do you see that man over there?” He pointed at the man Pierce had saw. Alois stared where he was pointing. 

“Uhh… what’s he look like?” 

“He’s tall, lanky, and has long curly hair. He looks… eccentric.” Alois immediately shook his head. 

“Are the fumes getting to you?” Alois teased, sticking his tongue out. Ciel frowned at this, but Trancy had just brought up a great point. 

“We should probably start leaving,” Pierre said, “It’s not wise to stick around and wait for this thing to collapse.” Right as Claude agreed with that, he saw that man taking pictures. He sighed and walked over to him with a commanding swagger, one of a military man. Ciel frowned and followed, but only to talk to the man before Claude scared him off. Pierce looked at Pierre before running after the two. Pierre sighed and looked at Alois, who was now clinging onto him.

“...I want to go home,” Alois said as he tightened his grip. 

“Alright, alright. We’ll go home in a moment.” 

The man was still taking photos when Ciel, Claude, and Pierce were standing right next to him. They all noticed that he was Claude’s height, had some stubble, and wore an interesting outfit; he was wearing a denim jacket over a white button-up shirt over a tie dye shirt. Jeans and hiking boots accompanied him alongside a multicolored scarf draped over his shoulders. The least odd thing about him were the rose-tinted glasses that shielded his eyes. 

“Excuse me… what exactly are you doing?” Claude asked. 

“Taking pictures,” the man replied while taking one last picture. He then looked at the three before sighing. 

“Hey, wait a minute. I saw you at the masquerade ball,” Pierce said, “You were there, weren’t you?” 

“Hmm?” the man asked, “No, I don’t attend parties like that.” 

“But… you were there? You wore a colorful suit and a blue mask. You kind of stick out.” Claude and Ciel certainly agreed with that statement; they saw this very man before them at different times in the night. 

“... Darn,” the man sighed, “Alright… yeah, I was. So what?”

“You were with grim reapers,” Claude explained, “Surely you’re also a grim reaper?” The man tilted his head to the side, a small smile crossing his face.   
“Yep. I am. But I’m just here to collect the souls of the innocents. Animals and children, that is.” Well. Claude should’ve expected that, but there was something so odd about this man taking photos of a disaster like this. It was probably for a special report. 

“I thought you were involved in this. My mistake, then,” he said with a polite bow. The man nodded out of respect. 

“But why take photos? This isn’t your doing, I assume. So why take photos?” Ciel stepped closer to him, interrogating this grim reaper. He stared at the boy with eyes that read as if he was nervous. So he said nothing.

“I’ll take that silence as you being involved,” Ciel shrugged. The man sighed. 

“I’m not involved,” he explained, “I…” 

“...Know the person who caused this?” Ciel guided him. 

“Yes,” he confessed, “I do.” 

“Well, you better tell us who it is before we go in there ourselves and drag them out,” Pierce threatened nonchalantly. The man looked at them all one by one. HE then smiled and let out a sigh of relief. 

“Since there’s nothing you can do about it and you’ll all survive this… I can tell you. My name is Quinn Friedman. The man who’s caused all of this is Niall Moore, who is the sweetest man when around me. However, that’s not to say that he has no flaws. After all, we all have them. I tend to get too invested in other people, for example. Niall’s main flaw is that he just… does too much. He likes to cause chaos, so when he does… it’s too much. But when it’s a romantic date, he just does too much and makes my heart explode.” Claude rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this long-winded explanation. Thank god Pierre wasn’t a scatterbrain. 

“That’s his thing, though… doing too much. When he does good things, he goes above and beyond. But when he does things like this… he takes things up a notch.”

“...So he’s a monster,” Ciel frowned. 

“No! Not at all! He’s a generous soul who loves dramatic flair! That’s all,” Quinn waved his hands to defend Moore, “Honest to god! He’s just doing his job, anyways.” 

“This is his job? Causing destruction?” Claude asked for clarification.

“Well… yeah! He’s tenured, so he can lead humans to their deaths and so forth. Very few of us are allowed to do that. He’s very powerful, I tell you. And wise, too.” 

“... So why did he target this place?” Ciel asked. But Quinn stared up at the building. Even as Ciel asked more questions, Quinn didn’t respond. Ciel clenched his fists and decided to just walk away, Pierce following suit. Claude, however, knew this tactic very well. Perhaps Quinn didn’t trust seers. 

He probably didn’t trust demons, either, but it was worth a shot. But before Claude could do some interrogating of his own, Quinn told him something that actually got a reaction out of him. 

“You better gather everyone up before your friend falls into his trap. He’s talking to Niall and doing a good job distracting him, but I’m sure that he’ll fall for Niall’s trap any moment.” 

“And that trap would be…?”

* * *

“...You’re a monster,” Sebastian told Niall. 

“HA! Weird that a demon’s saying this! Maybe gain some actual humanity before you come at me. After all… I’m as human as humanity gets. It’s the innate nature everyone has! Everyone wants to cause chaos, but I actually cause it.”

Sebastian scoffed, “… Id incarnate.” 

“Uh-huh! But… I’ll tell you what! If you’ll let me, I can tell you another story before I knock you out. Sound good?” 

“Actually, your stories are rather boring.” 

“Aww, is that so? But what if I told you about how my adorable boyfriend - the one waiting down there with your contractee - came to be a reaper? I love telling this story because it ends with him falling in love with me!”

“No thanks. Let’s get this over with.” 

“...Hmph. Fine. If you insist. But I’ll tell you the story anyways,” Niall smiled as Sebastian threw a punch while he dodged it, “You see… in the early seventies, Quinn was dating a woman with a blond bob, and they were like Bonnie and Clyde, only that girl was the one taking charge and doing most of the dirty work. Quinn was just supporting her and being an accomplice as needed. Quinn’s always been like that… he’s a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. Very low-maintenance, very kind… very, very sweet and selfless. So that idiotic woman tricked him into taking his own life. She then began tarnishing his reputation, making her seem like some abused victim. But his family came forward and revealed the truth!” 

“Oh? How’d he do it?” Sebastian asked nonchalantly as he bent backwards to dodge a swing from Niall’s scythe. Niall suddenly stopped fighting. 

“... It was at night. He had, uh, overdosed on some sleeping pills. That was it. It was a peaceful death, really,” he spoke as he looked down on the ground, “But hey! The good news is that he met me right after training. We bonded as friends for a little under decade and have been dating since the mid-eighties! That nasty woman really didn’t deserve him. She’s still rotting in jail, too! That’s a fate worse than death.” 

“Well, you sure seemed awfully shaken up when talking about how he died,” Sebastian shrugged once he was standing up straight. Niall stared at him before taking a swing at him, Sebastian dodging it again. 

“You’re the monster!” Niall suddenly shouted, “A kind soul was manipulated into this situation and you don’t think I should be shaken up about it?! Of course I’m shaken up, that’s only the normal,  _ human _ way to react to something like that! You’re the monster!” He then started taking quick slashes at Sebastian, who continuously dodged them. 

“Monster, monster, monster, monster,  **_monster!!_ ** ” he repeated as he slashed. He then slashed silently at him for what felt like at least five minutes. Sebastian eventually jumped away and landed on his feet, standing up straight. 

“Come now. Have I really upset you?” Niall glared at him before realizing what he had to do. He set his scythe down, immediately making Sebastian jump. What the hell was this reaper doing?! Had he lost his mind? 

Niall then approached him, walking slowly. He stepped in the CEO’s blood, but he didn’t care. Soon, he was face-to-face with Sebastian, so close that if one of them leaned towards the other, they’d kiss. 

“I did this for Quinn. I don’t have to fight,” he explained, “Quinn was upset that this company was moving in this area, so I… I got rid of the bastard who started this company and everyone who controls how this company functions environmentally. They’ll learn that they have to go green now or this’ll happen again. So… I’m done here. Now go ahead and just… punch me out of the window or something to look cool.” Sebastian stared at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m not joking. I’m telling the truth. I reaped the souls that I needed to reap and got to talk to you. Now, isn’t that nice? And… you’d be doing a good job by punching me out of a window, don’t you think? That’d go along with your orders… right?” 

“I was only ordered to be up here. I haven’t been called back or ordered to harm you.”

“But your master would be pleased, wouldn’t he?” Well… he usually would be.

“He’d love that you saved some people by getting me out of this building… right?” 

“He would if this wasn’t you trying to manipulate me.” 

“What?? No, no! I’m telling you… I’m doing this for you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“But I know demons! In fact, I rather like demons. I think they’re interesting and similar enough to me to know that this was me having fun while following orders.” 

“... But you did this for Quinn-” 

“I did. But that’s more like a dedication. If this destruction were a book, it’d be dedicated to him. But the real reason I wrote that book would be because I was given the allowance to. So… if you’ll end this book in a fun way, that’d be great.” 

“... And if I knock one of your teeth out?” Sebastian asked, essentially asking for permission to punch him as hard as possible. 

_ “Oh, I’d like to see you try.”  _

Sebastian fell into the trap. He punched Niall Moore right in the jaw and sent him flying out, only to fall out of the building as it began to crash to the ground. He had first heard the roar of the building itself giving into itself before having nowhere else to go but out as its supports were broken and inside the actual building. What sounded like cries from the damned souls of Hell itself echoed throughout the forced demolition. Dust surrounded everything. It got in his lungs and he coughed it out only to breathe it back in. As he looked at the crowd, he heard Niall Moore laughing. No,  _ cackling _ . 

When he landed on his back with a loud thud, he heard the two reapers walking around the rubble. Niall was murmuring to himself about each soul he was reaping while Quinn hummed as he looked for innocent souls that got caught in the crossfire. Sebastian felt like he couldn’t move; the wind was taken out of him, but he still couldn’t breathe in just pure air as the dust was still settling. After what felt like forever, the two came upon him. 

“Oh, there you are! I thought you’d have gone back to that boy by now,” Quinn said to him with a smile on his face, “Are you doing okay?” Niall stared at Sebastian with a grin.

All Sebastian could say as he slowly stood up was, “Fuck you.” This was directed at Niall, but Quinn was the one in front of him. 

“It just had to happen,” Quinn shrugged, “Sorry, dude.” Niall then laughed loudly, but Quinn scolded him. 

“I can’t help it,” he explained as he wiped a tear from his eye, “It’s not my fault that he’s stupid.” Niall continued to laugh and Quinn continued to scold him, but Sebastian groaned and walked out of the rubble. 

The first thing he saw was Pierre Labelle talking to the police.  _ Great. _

“Well… It’s great that you were one of the first people to call us about this,” an officer told him, “They’ll probably let you off of that drug charge because we were able to evacuate as many people as possible thanks to your call.” 

Huh? When had Pierre called emergency services? How long had he been up there? As he held his head, he tried to locate Ciel. That fall and the destruction had taken him by surprise. He certainly hit his head pretty badly, too. When he briefly removed his hand, it was covered in blood. 

“Well I hope you know that’s why I didn’t call. I called to save people and make you guys do your jobs.” 

“Hey, I hope you’re lumping us along with the firefighters and stuff,” the pig laughed nervously and put his hands up. Pierre rolled his eyes and walked off to talk to some reporters. They’d surely release that call and make it some big story with a title like “Crime Lord Saves Over 75 Lives With 911 Call”. Honestly… what a ridiculous thing to be praised for. It was just the best thing to do. The fact that no one even knew about this except for the media… disgraceful. Utterly disgraceful. He’d never seen anything like it. 

Did that mean that they got a tip then? Why not report the tip? When did the building actually start caving in? 

Pierre had far too many questions. Questions that made his head. And then he gasped. 

“Hey! Sebastian,” he called out. Sebastian stopped walking and turned around. 

“We took the kids back to my current HQ. We were all gonna wait but emergency shit arrived like ten minutes ago so I told them to bounce before it actually got bad.”

“... How long was I up there?” Sebastian asked. Pierre then noticed the blood gushing from his head. 

“I know you’re immortal, but that’s not good. Let’s get you to the hospital.” 

“Huh? No, I’m… fine.” 

“No. Not on my watch. I’m taking you to a hospital.” 

“But look, I can easily patch it up… see?” Sebastian waved his hand over the wound, but it continued to gush blood. 

_ Shit. _ Did Niall take a swipe during the fall without him noticing?

“Mhm,” Pierre said with his arms crossed, “We’re going.” 

“No. Take me to your place.” 

“... The HQ?”

“Yes, the god-damn… headquarters,” Sebastian sighed, feeling irritated, “Take me there instead.” Pierre sighed and obliged, not wanting to anger a demon by taking him to a hospital equipped to patch up humans. He helped Sebastian to his car and stepped on the gas. Sebastian hadn’t noticed it, but camera crews for various news sources had filmed Pierre gingerly guiding him into his seat. 

“How are you feeling, bud?” Pierre asked as Sebastian took breaths of pure air. 

“... Light-headed,” he replied honestly, “Irritated. All of that for nothing.” Pierre furrowed his brows out of confusion. 

“What do you mean? You actually distracted… whoever… for long enough for people to actually help some people out. If anything, you saved some lives.”

“... His name’s Niall Moore. He’s a grim reaper and he’s very dangerous-” 

“They already told me about it. I personally don’t have the time to remember all of what they told me, so tell me about once you’re patched up, okay?” Pierre asked. Sebastian agreed to that, not recognizing that Pierre had talked to him like he was a child. The demon leaned back in the seat, getting blood everywhere. Pierre didn’t even think about that happening, but when it did? He wanted to slap the demon. But that’d solve nothing, now would it? Pierre practiced some deep-breathing exercises as he continued to drive, encouraging Sebastian to do the same to not think about much. Sebastian didn’t need to try to not think about much at that moment; his brain just felt empty, unable to process what just happened. 

* * *

When they arrived at HQ, Claude and Hattie immediately looked at his wounds. While almost all of them were immediately healed by Sebastian himself, the only obstacle was this head injury. 

“It’s not from Niall, I can tell you that,” Claude told Hattie once they finally stopped the bleeding. Hattie nodded, but she was just listening to him. 

“Okay. And it doesn’t seem like it’s from the brain, either. He probably just… is gonna have a really bad concussion,” she joked, “No, but uh… I don’t think it’s that bad. It’s just… an odd wound that’s gonna take a few days to heal.” 

“... Right, but I’ve been struck by a death scythe before. This is what it’s like,” Sebastian explained as he shook his head. 

“Stop that,” Claude scolded him, “And you hit your head. At this point, you probably don’t know what it actually feels like.” 

“Well… maybe he forced me to hit my head with his death scythe.” 

“Now you’re making things up,” Claude said as he let out a soft cough, which only piqued Seb’s interest. 

“I thought you all left before the building actually imploded?” he asked. Claude said nothing to that. He only crossed his arms. 

“Ah, I see. Were you there watching Pierre or watching me?” 

“If I said I was watching both of you, would that make you happy?” 

“I’d think it’d be very sweet if that was true,” Sebastian teased in an almost flirtatious way. Claude rolled his eyes before he looked away. Poor Sebastian. That fall must’ve changed his whole personality. 

“But I didn’t see you with us?” Sebastian asked. Claude didn’t look at him.

All he said was, “I was there, but I was in the back of the car by the time Pierre actually saw you.” Sebastian suddenly felt… off. What time was it? When did all of this happen? None of this felt… real. It all felt like a dream. Was this a simulation? 

“Are you okay?” Hattie asked him in a kind tone, to which Byron scoffed at. How long had Byron been there. 

“I… I should lie down and rest,” Sebastian confessed. 

“As you should. You deserve it,” Claude told him. 

“... Thanks,” Sebastian said to Claude as Hattie helped him stand, “But how is Ciel?” 

“I’m fine,” Ciel said, “Did you not know that I was here?” Sebastian looked around only to finally see Ciel calmly leaning against a couch. 

“I…”

“Sebastian… go rest. That’s an order."

“...Yes, my lord.” As Sebastian was escorted to a guest room, Pierre looked over at the others. 

“I think he’s got tunnel vision,” he suddenly spoke 

Claude nodded in agreement, “My theory is that he’s seriously injured his mortal form in a way that’d never be cured if he were actually human. But he should be fine within a week… maybe two.” 

“Two weeks?” Ciel suddenly asked. 

“Well, that’s being optimistic,” Claude replied with a slight shrug, “Given his age, it should only be one or two weeks.” He then punctuated his sentence with a light cough. He was surprised that Pierre wasn’t coughing, even if he had been farther away from the original dust cloud. 

“... I’m going to get some coffee. My treat,” he offered. 

“Yes,” Alois whispered to himself and fist pumped.

“Hey man, you should probably stay in. I’ll go,” Pierce suggested, putting a hand out as if it would stop Claude. 

“I insist," Claude stood his ground and Pierce had nothing to say to that. After figuring out everyone’s orders, Claude headed out with a long list. Once he left, the others wondered if he, too, would be okay. Hattie and Alois assumed that he would be, but Pierre was certainly concerned. He was about to follow him, but the others convinced him not to. As he sat there, they all talked about seemingly the true power couple in town, Niall Moore and Quinn Friedman. Had they just gotten roped up in this or was this planned? 

Only time would tell. 


	12. Veni Vidi Vici

“And then everything… everything fell down! Oh, you should’ve seen the look on his face!” Niall laughed boldly. Six reapers gathered in a coffee shop, all were on a quick break to discuss their current project. 

“Honestly,” William huffed, “How ridiculous and unnecessary.” Grell, however, was stunned. How dare he not even invite her to watch?! To see Sebastian in such a state of shock and terror… how glorious! It’s all she could’ve ever wanted to see. 

“The fact that you didn’t invite me to watch is ridiculous,” she huffed in response, “I would’ve loved to see Bassy.” William rolled his eyes while Quinn couldn’t keep in a giggle. 

“Behold! …Fish boy!” Quinn suddenly referenced, to which Grell scoffed. 

“Stop that. You know what I mean.” 

“But… Bass-y,” Quinn said with a shrug, “You always talk about this guy and we’re just now seeing him… he looks nothing like a fish!” 

“And he’s not worth shit, either,” Niall said as he sipped on a pumpkin spice frappuccino. Will nodded along in agreement. 

Grell sighed, “Oh, I know, I know. It’s a good thing Hannah and I met.” 

“Definitely,” Will agreed, “How dumb is he to just fall for your trick? You literally offered yourself to him like a sacrificial lamb. Clearly he’s always dealt with fools who can’t imagine taking a hit.” 

“Or those that don’t wanna get down and dirty,” Niall said with a wink and a smile.

“Gross.”

“Well, hey,” Othello suddenly spoke up, “At least that’s off the table now and he won’t be bugging us as we investigate. I gotta say, Niall… using that demon’s natural inclination towards violence has got to be something to put down in the books!” 

“Oh, stop,” Niall waved him off, grinning from ear to ear. William looked around before continuing the conversation. All grim reapers had some knowledge about demons, but Niall was just motivated enough to do his own research, especially while out on the field.

“Let’s discuss what we do now,” William said, “With the main issue settled, we should…” Will suddenly stopped talking, too busy looking at his planner. 

“What bullshit story did you give dear Bassy?” Grell asked Niall, immediately changing the subject. 

“Oh, I, uh… said it was just business as usual, but I added that I did it for Quinn.” 

“Aww, really?” Quinn asked him, “How sweet.”

“Well… It is business as usual. I’m glad you didn’t explain it much more than that,” Will sighed after sipping some black coffee, “Back to the schedule, we should then be looking into Aleister Chamber. He’s got plenty of contacts we’ll be looking into. That demon and his contractee are two of them. We must talk to the boy.” 

“Sounds good. How come you’re able to drink that crap?” Ronald suddenly asked, pointing at Will’s black coffee. Othello was drinking some tea, Ronald ordered some cold brew, Grell barely touched her iced latte, and Quinn was drinking some fruity drink made of coconut milk and berry tea. 

“Because… it’s just what I prefer,” Will huffed, “So who will investigate who?” 

“As much as I want to investigate demons, I’m not touching the Diplomat of Hell nor that gang he’s working with,” Niall shook his head, “No way. Quinn should deal with the Phantomhive boy, though. You know him.” Will nodded in agreement. As different as William and Niall were from one another, they often agreed when it came to important decisions like this, sometimes even work in general. Niall just had a lot more fun with the job. 

“Good call,” Will replied as he made a note that Quinn would investigate Ciel Phantomhive, “You’ll just investigate whoever’s left, then?” 

“Sure. Maybe I’ll even ask randos about him so we get more leads. You know me,” Niall shrugged, “Who’s investigating the Diplomat of Hell?” 

“Is he really a diplomat? I thought he was a general or something,” Ronald sighed, resting his hand under his neck. 

“He used to be,” Will confirmed with a nod, “Diplomat of Hell is his current position. Would you like to ask him and the Serpents about Aleister?” 

“Uhh… who else is there?” Ronald asked. William sighed. 

“Let’s see…,” Will said as he looked through the list of contacts. 

“We should separate the Diplomat and the Serpents,” Grell suggested, “I’d hate for one of us to get cornered by all of them at once. Ronald, we should do that.” Ronald gave her a look that read “Are you serious?”, to which Grell simply huffed. 

“I agree with that,” Othello said with a nod, “That’s very good. I’ll investigate whoever’s gonna be the easiest to work with. Definitely not the Diplomat.” 

“Of course,” Will said as he hid his inner irritants. With his luck, he’d be face-to-face with the Diplomat of Hell by tomorrow afternoon, “Then you also wouldn’t want to investigate one Giovanna Starr.”

“Nope,” Othello confirmed, “Who else is there?” 

“I’ll take Giovanna,” Ronald offered. Will huffed but agreed with that statement. 

“There’s Ophelia Pellegrino, a figure that we saw at the masquerade. She was watching Aleister a lot. Something’s odd about her,” he suggested to Othello, “Possibly something wrong… in the head.” He pointed at his head and Othello got the message instantly. 

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll research her!” He replied. 

“Hmm?” Grell asked, “What the hell was that?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Will replied, “Okay, so that leaves… Niall, can you please just deal with Faustus? I fear he won’t be cooperative if Grell or I talk to him.” 

“Hmmm… well, given that I fucked his lungs up for a few days, he probably won’t want to see me.”

“You did what?” Will asked, brows furrowed, “I told you to not deal with him until Sebastian’s dealt with. Are you serious?” 

“It couldn’t be helped. He was there with the leader of the Serpents,” Niall shrugged. 

“... Fine. Are you sure that you’ll actually ask people about Chamber?”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll do that AND talk to a guy that Phantomhive AND the Diplomat were talking to. He was definitely a man of interest to them, so… yeah! I’ll figure out who that guy is and see where it goes from there.” Will sighed. As good as that was, he didn’t want to deal with the Diplomat of Hell. 

“... I’ll take the Big Boss, then,” Grell shrugged, “I’m literally dating his ex, so… not too much of a problem there.” Will stared at her. In fact, everyone stared at her. 

“Are you sure, girlie?” Niall asked, “I mean… what if he eats you alive?” 

“He’ll never. The few times we’ve talked, he was oddly decent. Certainly doesn’t treat me like Bassy does, which is certainly a bore. He’s a bore, but I can talk to him. He surely can’t know much about Chamber, anyways.” 

“... Right,” Niall sighed. Will was relieved; thank god for Grell and her boldness. Sebastian was a demon he could deal with. He wasn’t common, but he wasn’t incredibly high-rank. He never saw Beelzebub regularly. But Claude Faustus, Diplomat of Hell itself? The man who often made deals with angels and reapers? That man was a man to worry about. He was a dangerous liability while Sebastian was a pest. Claude Faustus was a termite chewing at the foundation while Sebastian Michaelis was a buzzing horse fly. 

“Great! Now that that’s settled, let’s talk actual business,” Niall said as he leaned on the table.

“Excuse me?” Will asked him. 

“How’s everyone doing? What’d we do today?” Niall Moore continued, draining his cup until empty. 

“Well… I mean, while you were out causing chaos, we were just doing the usual,” Ronald shrugged. Othello and Grell nodded immediately. Will frowned. 

“That’s suspicious. What were you two actually doing?” Will asked them. Grell and Othello looked at one another. 

“Uhh…” Grell stammered, twirling long red hair around her finger.

“We went out to get mani-pedis. Well… I just got a pedicure,” Othello admitted. 

“Seriously?!” Will and Grell asked at the same time. 

“Why are you ratting us out?! Stop snitching!” 

“He was doing the right thing,” Will huffed, “Why did you both decide to slack off on this very day? Othello… did Grell force you into this?” 

“Not really,” Othello shrugged, “It just sounded nice.” 

“You guys didn’t invite me?? Really?” Ronald asked, “Some friends you are!” 

“Why are you offended?” Will asked him with a frown. Quinn could only chuckle, which stopped everyone from clawing at each other's throat in a playful, sibling-like way.

“Man… this really puts everything in perspective,” he said, “You guys did all that… and I just took pictures.” 

Niall waved him off, “Oh, don’t say that. You reaped souls, too.” 

“I wish I hadn’t,” Quinn said with a sigh, “Too many animals got in the way. You should’ve waited until they were gone, Niall.”

“Who’s the one that can talk to animals here? Huh?” Niall asked him. Quinn sighed. 

“I guess you’re right. I dropped the ball on that.” 

William stared at him, “... Our job isn’t to save souls-”

“Oh, I know. I guess it’s good that there weren’t any children I had to reap,” Quinn said. A smile then slowly crossed his face. 

“Yeah. That’s good, actually! I’m glad I didn’t see that.” 

“I thought you’d be used to seeing that by now,” Grell said with a shrug. 

“Oh, no. It’s very… very… unsettling to this very day. I don’t even want to talk about what I’ve seen.” 

“Yes. As an American, clearly you see… difficult situations,” Will said, offering what little emotion and sympathy he could for someone like Quinn. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but this job didn’t care about how you felt. Quinn nodded, already tearing up. 

“Oh, thank you, Will,” he sniffed, “It really is sometimes. I don’t get how these kids get into all of this nasty stuff sometimes. It’s awful… Oh, it’s truly awful!” William looked away. Was that not the best move after all? 

Imagine. The British Grim Reaper Dispatch teaming up with the American and German Dispatches. 

Something was truly afoot. Whatever it was… the superiors absolutely hated it. 

“Well, that’s the thing with society,” Niall shrugged.

“We live in a society,” Ronald teased him. 

“But you agree that humans have no idea what a truly good society is like, right?” 

“Even demons know better,” Ronald agreed.

“As disgusting as they are, I have to agree,” Will nodded. Grell looked at her phone as they continued to discuss human society. She looked at a text that Hannah sent her and smiled. She then worked up the nerve to call Claude. Hannah warned her about him calling her to intimidate her, but Claude never called. Hannah gave her his number to block, but Grell never got around to it. Sebastian’s number was blocked, though. 

The moment she put her phone up to her face, everyone grew quiet. 

And then he picked up.

“Hello?” Claude asked. Grell instinctively twirled some hair around her finger.

“Hi, this is Grell Sutcliff. I was just wondering if we could schedule a time where we could talk? I would barge into your place whenever, but… this is rather important.” Ronald’s mouth was agape while Will’s brows were furrowed. Did she just… call who they thought she called? 

“Oh,” Claude said before pausing, “That’s fine. Is it about Hannah?” 

“Oh, no, dearie. It’s for work!” 

“... Really?” 

“ _ Really _ .” Niall suddenly looked around, realizing that he was hearing the voice of Claude himself. That certainly wasn’t from the phone, though. 

“... Alright. What time would work best?” 

“Hmmm… tomorrow!” Claude then told her to hold, but Grell frowned; he was in line about to make an order and he didn’t even realize that there were six grim reapers in that same coffee shop?! 

Will took this chance to say, “You mean to tell me you actually have his number? Why not just… bombard him? Act like your usual self?” 

“Our relationship is very complicated,” Grell explained, “Like I said, if it was for anything else, I would have. But this seems like it’s worth it to actually take seriously.” 

“Alright, thank you for waiting. Tomorrow works out, but I may be with the Serpents.” 

“Really? Well, that’s perfect, honestly.” 

“... Alright,” Claude sighed, “I appreciate that you called. It’d annoy me to no end if you just showed up out of nowhere.” 

“Aw, do you actually get annoyed? Sometimes I’m not sure what’s going on in that head of yours,” Grell teased. 

“Well, that’s a good thing. See you tomorrow.” 

“Fine, fine. Goodbyeee!” Grell waited for him to hang up, completely satisfied. 

“When will you meet with him?” Will asked. 

“Here’s the thing: he’s definitely going to be with the Serpents, so you and I should confront them all at the same time!” 

“Ah- You’re kidding.” 

“Far from it!” Well, William couldn’t say no. He wanted to huff and puff, but none of that would contribute to the project. The reapers continued to chat as if there wasn’t plenty of work to be done, William barely participating. Leaning on his hand, he wondered what it would be like to face Hell’s Diplomat for the first and possibly only time of his life. He hoped it would be the only time, at least. For now, their project was going great, possibly to the point where that wish of his would hopefully come true. If that success continues, tomorrow would be the one time he’d have to earnestly be respectful towards a high-ranking demon. 


	13. The One Where They Investigate Chamber’s Chambers

1:31 PM. Pierce checked his watch and just as quickly looked back up at the supposedly empty manor of Aleister Chamber. He let out a sigh as he looked over at Pierre and that demonic spouse of his. Arranged marriage between two grown men… what a novel concept.

“What’s the plan, boss?” He asked Labelle, who looked back at him with his sapphire eyes. His arms crossed over while he held a pair of binoculars.

“Well… I say that we just walk in like we own the place.” 

“It’s locked,” Pierce said, “I don’t want to damage anything, either. We should test some things.” He then nodded towards Hattie, who was chatting with Byron, Jenna, and Rosé. 

“They want to test for… DNA or something?” Pierre asked. Pierce nodded. 

“Perhaps I should sneak in through a crack and then unlock the door myself,” Claude suggested. Pierce nodded as he placed a white baker boy hat over his very short hair. 

“Whatever you think will work best. Don’t damage anything.”

“Of course,” Claude replied as he smoothed out his jacket with one hand. 

“Yeah. Don’t break any windows,” Luna teased him, grabbing Pierre and Pierce’s shoulders. Claude looked over her entirely black ensemble before huffing. 

“For your information, that wasn’t my doing.” Luna covered an eye roll with sunglasses. Claude walked away to find a way inside the manor. 

“I think that was Sebastian,” Byron said as he approached the three with Hattie, Jenna, and Rosé, “Hattie believes that Sebastian is a demon of wrath.” 

“Yes,” Hattie said with a proud nod, “Demons of wrath are incredibly impatient and have slightly hollow heads.” 

“So they’re stupid?” Pierce asked, hands on his hips. 

“Mhm. But get this,” Hattie continued, “I found feathers around and in the house that Luna’s staying at. Large, black feathers.” 

“Raven feathers,” Jenna confirmed with a nod, “I looked at them.” 

“According to all of my research and hypotheses, demons often attach themselves to a certain animal or two. By this, I mean they either represent themselves with animals or they have familiars. It’s my belief that Sebastian connects and represents as a raven.” 

Pierre nodded, “Interesting. Would taking interest in a certain animal be classified as having or wanting a familiar?” Hattie nodded quickly, a sparkle in her eye. 

“Well, I believe that Sebastian’s familiar or familiars would be a cat. Maybe multiple cats.” Hattie quickly took notes. 

“You notice anything like that in Claude?” Byron asked, placing a hand on Pierre’s shoulder, forcing Luna away from both Pierre and Pierce. 

“Well… he told me not to kill spiders. Didn’t explain why, though.” Nothing was said as Hattie jotted down some more notes. 

“And how’d he react when you brought the cat?” Rosé asked. 

“Oh, uh… he was nice about it. He told me that he likes all animals, though,” Pierre said with a nod before looking through the binoculars. Hattie finished taking notes after about an additional ten seconds.

“So what do you think we’ll find in there?” she asked everyone. 

“Missing girls and women,” Pierce said with a sure nod. 

“Please,” Hattie huffed and crossed her arms, “Maybe we’ll find organs?” 

“It’s possible,” Rosé said, “But you know… It’s just odd that he got up and left with his belongings. Would he really leave a lot of suspicious stuff?” 

“It’s entirely possible that he’d do that. He’s flighty like that,” Pierre sighed as he looked away from his binoculars. Suddenly, the front doors opened and revealed Claude. He said nothing as some Serpents calmly walked in, ready for the worst. Pierre handed his binoculars over to Dasha, who was keeping guard of the operation with Lei, Barb, and ten low-rank Serpents. He was the last to walk into the manor. Joining Claude’s side, he watched as Serpents headed off in different directions.

“What should we look into?” he asked Claude. 

“...That’s your call. I’m only here to assist,” Claude replied. Pierre sighed and decided to just start walking down a hallway, Claude right by his side. 

“I don’t even know the layout of this place,” Pierre said as he walked, “I couldn’t find it online.” 

“Well, perhaps that’s because it’s an old building. It’s over one-hundred years old.”

“And you know that because…?” 

“Because I can sense its age.” 

“Is that yet another cool demon trick?” 

“Not necessarily.” 

“... Right. Hey, let’s head to his bedroom!” Pierre said with a soft giggle. 

“And why would we do that? Rosé’s already looking around there.” 

“Right,” Pierre sighed and continued to walk down the hallway that slowly grew darker and darker, “I just thought it’d be fun to, uh… do something up there.” 

“And that would be?” Claude asked. Pierre looked at him with a smirk.

“... Gross,” Claude huffed, “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not? This has ‘murder manor’ vibes. It’s kinda hot… don’t you think so?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Well, murder manor is a term that Byron and I came up with to describe a large home with a lot of mystery and hidden passageways. For example, my childhood home was a murder manor. It had a big wine cellar and basement combo, so it’d be the perfect place to torture and kill people.” 

“I assume you know that from experience,” Claude snarked with zero emotion. 

“Hey! I’m not a serial killer. I’m a crime lord. Put some honor on my name, please.” 

“Right. So do you think Aleister Chamber is a serial killer?” 

“... It’s entirely possible.” They walked in silence until Claude put his arm out to stop Labelle. He wordlessly opened a door on their right and stepped into a dark room. Pierre followed him and turned on a light. 

“Warn me before you do that,” Claude told him. Pierre stared at him and laughed. 

“I scared you by turning on a light?” 

“You didn’t scare me; you made me jump.” 

“So I scared you,” Pierre smirked. 

“... You can call it whatever you want.” 

“Awww-” 

“Shh. I’m trying to focus.” 

“... Right. What are we even doing in this room?” It was a fair question; the room appeared to just harbor old pieces of furniture, an old grand piano, and boxes. Pierre suddenly had an idea, an awful idea. When Claude’s back was turned - he was interested in the boxes, a few old chairs, lamps, and nightstands - Pierre sat at the piano as quietly as he could and started playing “Phantom of the Opera”. The sound blared throughout the manor, putting life in the air. Claude turned his head to glare at Pierre, but Pierre was engrossed in the piece at this point. The demon sighed and walked over to the piano. He wanted to open the piano, but that’d make Pierre’s playing even louder. 

“Pierre,” he said, “I need to check the piano.” Pierre suddenly stopped and looked up at him. 

“... For what, exactly?” He asked.

“I need to open it.” 

“Want me to help?” 

“No.” Pierre sighed as he watched Claude open the piano up to reveal bags of hallucinogenic drugs. 

LSD. PCP. Ketamine. Salvia. DMT. A few small bags of weed thrown in for fun.

“Hallucinogens,” Claude murmured, pointing out the obvious. 

“Actually, some of these are dissociative drugs. The difference is that they produce out of body experiences,” Pierre corrected him, earning him a golden glare. 

“We should take these,” Pierre suddenly said. 

“We should not,” Claude shook his head. 

“Uhhh, I’m not taking them to your place,” Pierre laughed, “I’m taking it to HQ. We don’t specialize in these, so it’ll be fun to have on hand for certain clients.”

“... You specialize in cocaine, right?” 

“Pure Colombian cocaine,” Pierre nodded in agreement, “Well, thanks to Luna, that is. Dangerous business, might I add. That’s why Luna deals with that, mainly. I’m just the white guy that allows them all to keep functioning. I’m more of a distraction, if anything.” 

“...Right.” Claude watched Pierre speak into a walkie-talkie just to order a few low-ranks to confiscate any drugs they find. 

“Come on, let’s continue looking,” Pierre said with a smile. Claude agreed and followed him. 

“You know, everything about Aleister makes sense now,” Claude said as the two walked, “I never considered that he was ever using drugs.” 

“Really?” Pierre laughed, “Dude, that guy is always at least using weed or opiates or something like that. He probably thought it was so cool to brag about to me. I only use weed from time to time, though.”

“That’s right. You ‘stopped drinking and partying’ to make sure you focused on your current job. Is there… anything there?” 

“Well… kind of,” Pierre sighed, “I love social gatherings, but I hate being around alcohol.” 

“... Family issues?” Claude asked with a smirk. 

“Nope. My own issues with it. I wasn’t an alcoholic - far from it, actually - but I hate how I act when I drink. I’m just… aggressive. Incredibly manipulative and sociopathic. More than I am when I’m sober, though. I’m my worst self whether I’ve only had one drink or five. If I’m drunk, I’m a monster. But if I’m buzzed? I act shitty and I know I’m acting shitty. That’s the worst, honestly. When I know I’m acting shitty but I can’t stop myself. I’m glad I stopped; I’m much better for it.” Claude nodded, but not in agreement. He was just listening to him. 

“I see,” he said, “So you just smoke now? Weed, I mean.” 

“Yep,” Pierre replied bluntly. Suddenly, both of them stopped walking. 

“Did you hear that?” Pierre asked Faustus. 

“Indeed.” They continued to listen for another scream or yelp. It sounded like a woman’s cry for help. Perhaps Pierce was right. 

Suddenly, a scream. A familiar scream. 

“Hey, Boss!” Pierce quickly shouted after said scream, “We’ve got some girls over here.” Of course. Pierre sighed and both he and Claude followed Pierce’s voice and the sound of Serpents helping women and girls as young as 13 out of a cellar. The two passed by miserable-looking faces as they walked down to the cellar. 

“Jesus H. Christ... it’s like we walked into a scene from  _ House of 1000 Corpses _ ,” Pierre scoffed as he flipped some hair out of his face. The Serpents and the Spider Demon investigated the dank, bloodied wine cellar and basement, stumbling upon some more drugs and items used in cult-like rituals. 

“This… This I can use to track who and what he’s working with,” Hattie said, a wild look in her eyes. 

“Good,” Pierre said with a sigh, looking over at where he thought Claude would be. However, he was nowhere to be seen. He frowned and walked back up to the first floor. Claude certainly wasn’t looking around with the low-ranks, was he? Labelle approached Byron, who was headed to the second floor with Rosé. Both were carrying large guns. 

“Hey, where’s Claude?” Pierre asked them. 

“Wait, you didn’t send him up to check out some weird noises?” Rosé asked him while pointing at the ceiling and the second floor. They all collectively looked at one another for mere moments before rushing upstairs. Had they been slighted? 

“Could you just get to the point, please?” Claude asked someone when they reached the second floor. The trio slowly followed the sound of his voice. 

“Ohh? Really? You don’t have time just to chat?” a queer voice asked - was this a woman? - while leaning on a door that led to Claude. Suddenly, the door cracked open just a bit. Pierre frowned and stared into said crack while Byron and Rosé covered him. 

No one peeked through. With a deep breath, Pierre took the doorknob and pushed the door open some more. He stepped into a guest bedroom with three people in it. Byron and Rosé followed suit, but immediately pointed their guns at two people. 

“Wait… You’re that person that harassed me during the masquerade,” Byron said, pointing his gun at none other than Grell Sutcliff. Rosé was, of course, pointing her gun at William T. Spears. The man had his hands up, but neither of them were bothered. 

“I certainly did not harass you, boy,” Grell said with a pursed frown, “Honestly, how rude of you! I, as a lady, would never!” 

“Right,” Claude said, directing the conversation while looking at Pierre, “What did you two want to know?” 

“Did you plan to put us at gunpoint? I admire the planning but it’s not exactly going to work,” William told the demon. Claude looked over at him and a smirk came over his face. 

“No. That wasn’t my intention,” he said while taking off his glasses, “But it certainly works in my favor.”

“Can I… Can I be caught up?” Pierre asked, cutting through the present tension, “What’s happening?” 

“Mr. Labelle, my associate and I are just here to ask about one Aleister Chamber. We’d appreciate any information Pierre stared at him, then Grell, and then Claude. 

“Hey, what’s the square root of 16?” Byron asked randomly. His emerald eyes slowly looked back and forth from Rosé and Pierre. The demon immediately realized what this meant from their body language alone. 

Pierre started to say, “Five-” 

“They’re not cops,” Claude quickly interrupted, “They’re Grim Reapers. Gods of Death.” 

“...Honestly,” William said while quickly pushing up his glasses. 

“You really thought I was a cop?! Please!” Grell laughed, “I’d never work with such scum.” Pierre smiled softly at this. 

“What kind of code was that, anyhow?” William asked, “Frankly, it’s not that useful.” 

“Their next move entirely depended on my answer,” Pierre gestured to Byron and Rosé, “If I gave them the correct answer - four, of course - then I’ve deduced that you aren’t cops. If I gave them the wrong answer - eight - then you look like cops and we’d flee.” 

“Then what did five mean?” Grell asked, hands on her hips. Pierre looked over at her with a smirk. 

“Oh, I really don’t think you want to know.” 

“If you had plans to kill us, it wouldn’t have worked. I appreciate that you intervened,” William said to Claude while managing not to shiver out of sheer disgust. 

“Of course. Now… Aleister Chamber is interesting. I’m sure you know that. However, Pierre would know better about him than I do. What I will say is that he’s directly connected to a cult and the occult in general.” 

“Right,” William said as he took notes. He knew that Grell wasn’t going to take any. 

“... You know, he mentioned being a doctor at some point. Or going to med school, at least,” Pierre said with a sigh, motioning for Byron and Rosé to put their weapons down. William looked up at him with interest. 

“Okay?” Grell asked as she twirled a long piece of red hair around her finger. 

“He, uh… He never got that far in his career because he’s afraid of blood,” Pierre laughed, “Imagine that. A man who does all of this benign scared of blood.” 

“... Drug-induced violence?” Claude suggested. William wrote all of this down. 

“You’re sure you’re not a cop?” Pierre teased as he looked William over. Will looked up at him with his piercing lime eyes. 

“I’m sure,” he firmly replied, “You’re awfully nervous about police involvement for someone with your reputation.” 

“Give me a break, I was just acquitted from a drug trial.” 

“Right,” Claude said as he closed his eyes, directing the conversation once more, “Will that be all?” 

“About Aleister? Yes. That was all I needed.” 

“Really?” Grell asked, “If that’s the case, let’s chat. How’s Sebastian?” Claude looked at her with a smirk. 

He opened his eyes and said, “You’re actually worried about him?” 

“No! I’m curious. Is he suffering? Or healing well?” 

“Both,” Claude replied, “He, uh… Hurt his head rather badly.” 

“And ruined my car seats because of it, too,” Pierre huffed, “Claude had to clean them for me.” 

“Really?” Will asked, staring Claude down now, “And why would you do that?” All Claude had to do was show the death god his ring. Will showed no emotion, yet he knew exactly what this meant. 

This spelled danger. D as in disaster, A as in aggravation, N as in nope, G as in grave, E as in extravagant, and R as in really terrible for everyone aside from Claude and Pierre. 

“A mutual contract. Niall told us about these during one of his rampant monologues,” he quipped. 

“That’s… that’s impossible! You?! Married before Hannah and I?!” Grell asked dramatically, a hand over her forehead. 

“It’s not a marriage,” William explained, “It’s a contract where the demon slowly feeds off of a human’s soul. In exchange, the human asks the demon for anything they’d want and multiple wishes.” Frankly, he never understood the concept. It sounded like a slow death and nothing more. 

“Ohhh, that’s right. I vaguely remember that old man talking about it. All I remembered was that only sometimes do demons ask for sex from their contractees. It actually was the one thing I paid attention to, given that demons seem to be incredibly freaky. So are you two doing it yet?” Claude and Pierre stared at her; Claude looked like he was about to murder her while Pierre had this embarrassed wide-eyed stare. 

“Well, it’s uh… It’s only been, what... two days?” Pierre laughed nervously. Claude nodded along with that very quickly, almost too quickly. 

“Hmph. You two are certainly boring, then. What did you even do during the night, then?” 

“Uhh…” Pierre stammered, not wanting to say that all the newlyweds did was talk about metal and joke around with one another. Claude said nothing as well. 

“What a shame,” Grell sighed, “If I were you, I’d certainly be having tons of fun.” William rolled his eyes. 

“Honestly,” he said. Some silence passed. 

“Well, we’ll be off,” Will said, “Thank you for the information.” 

“Of course,” Pierre said with a smile and the tilt of his head. Claude bowed his head out of respect. 

“Claude, we should talk more!” Grell said as the two reapers left through the second floor window, “Do text me whenever, darling. Or I’ll text you!” 

“Right.” 

“Ta-ta!” As soon as the window closed, Pierre approached Claude. Compared to Claude, Pierre looked absolutely short. However, he was 5’10” with his boots. 

“Why did you just run off?” Pierre asked him, arms crossed. 

“Because,” Claude said as he uncrossed Pierre’s arms to hold his hands, “I thought I could handle them myself. I expected them to come.” 

“What?!” Pierre asked, pulling away, “And you didn’t tell me?” 

“Is there an issue? They didn’t attack.” 

“No, but they were suspicious as fuck,” Byron shook his head as Rosé nodded in agreement with Byron. 

“They were also asking about Aleister,” Pierre added, “What the hell was that about? Do you think they were snooping around as well?” 

“It doesn’t matter much, really. If anything, they could be potential allies.”

“... Fine. Byron, Rosé: gather everyone up. We’re going.” Byron and Rosé followed Pierre’s orders, leaving Labelle and Faustus in the guest room. Claude said nothing as he sat on the bed and held his face in his hands. Pierre immediately sat right next to him and grabbed his arm. 

“Are you alright?” Pierre asked quietly after some silence passed. Claude looked over at him, sitting up straight. 

“Yes. I’m fine,” he sighed, “... Do you still want to get frisky while we’re here?” Pierre frowned as he quickly realized what he was referring to. He then laughed and playfully - and very gently - hit his arm. 

“Let’s go. This place reminds me too much of my old place, anyways,” the crime lord said as he stood up and brought Claude with him. Pierre walked close to Claude as they left the room and eventually left the manor. 


End file.
